


Culture Shock

by sifshadowheart



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Coping with Mental Health Issues, Creating a Confident Yuuri, Fluff, M/M, Pre-Series, Slash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-10-28 13:15:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 28,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17788079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sifshadowheart/pseuds/sifshadowheart
Summary: Celestino Cialdini, professional figure skating coach and former Olympic Bronze Medalist, hadn’t quite known what to expect from his newest skater beyond the impeccable step sequences and a musicality on the ice that was second to none in the International Men’s Junior division and better than ninety-percent of the Seniors.What Celestino hadn’t expected was a stamina honed by being – in Celestino’s professional opinion – the most training-mad skater he’d ever coached.That said, he hadn’t expected the anxiety or depression either, though whether those predated their association or had been brought on by the sudden changes to Yuuri’s life he wasn’t certain.All he knew was that if he wanted his new skater to succeed, something had to be done about the situation.Yuuri Katsuki had too much damn talent to waste it because of a stubborn refusal to seek help.Over Celestino’s dead body would his best chance at coaching a top skater crash and burn before it ever took flight because of an issue for which help and remediation existed.





	1. Chapter 1

** Culture Shock **

_A Yuuri! On Ice Fanfiction_

By Sif Shadowheart

Disclaimer:  Yuuri! On Ice (Yuri On Ice, YoI, etc) belongs to its respective owners.  No monetary gain is attached to this piece of fan-authored fiction.

_Author’s Note:_

_Things that happen when I binge-read or have new fan-vids pop up on my YouTube dashboard aren’t my fault…I swear._

_Recently, I’ve been really annoyed by how the mental illness of YoI’s main character was portrayed which I’ve come to understand is actually a rather realistic take on how mental health and illness is treated in some cultures.  It really surprised me that they (the writers/creators/etc.) kept this piece of cultural stigma but hand-waved and/or completely disregarded other pieces of cultural stigma such as the rampant homophobia in Russia and Russian legislation that would make having the other main character of the series openly gay _and _Russian extremely unrealistic.  As a result, I decided to write this, taking from my own personal experience with anxiety and depression as diagnosed and treated by a medical professional and using that to write a pre-series YoI Yuuri/Viktor slash story._

**_This story contains mentions of mental illness including anxiety and depression, treatment, medication, and SLASH_ **

_All that said, I hope you enjoy!_

**Chapter One: There’s Nothing More Dangerous Than Stepping Out Your Front Door**

_April 2010, Detroit_

Seventeen-year-old International Men’s Junior figure skater Yuuri Katsuki, or rather Katsuki Yuuri as he’d be called at home, stepped off of the plane from Tokyo at Detroit and into a strange pandemonium.

Worse: he stepped off the plane _alone_ for the first time ever.

Last year was his first competing on the international circuit, making him a not-unseasoned traveler.

However, there were only so many changes a body could be expected to handle all at once and he thought – not unfairly – that graduating from high school (as Japan’s educational system ran on a different calendar than that of his new home for the next four-to-five years), signing with a new coach, and moving to a new country were all a bit much on their own without throwing him into the deep end of solo international travel.

Before – well, just _before_ he supposed – there had always been either his former-coach or his ballet instructor along for the trip to help him navigate strange places and stranger people.

Don’t get him wrong – his new coach was going to meet him there – but still it wasn’t the best introduction to his new city he could’ve hoped for.

Honestly, the whole situation was like one strange never-ending daydream.

One a year before he wouldn’t have even been able to _fathom_.

Staring around and using his decent English skills – still better written than spoken unfortunately though he was about to have a _lot_ of chances to practice – he navigated his way, still half-asleep and definitely jetlagged through customs and immigration, thanking Minako-sensei’s insistence on organizing all of his paperwork for the process _just so_ before he left and stuffing it into the front zipper-pocket of his carry-on, and managed to find the tall figure of his new coach, one Celestino Cialdini, in the small crowd of those waiting for incoming arrivals.

It was all Minako-sensei’s fault he decided.

Well, not _all_ of it.

A good portion belonged to his friend Yuuko-chan, without whom he might’ve never gone from ice skating as something to do for cross-training with ballet at Minako-sensei’s recommendation to something that took his focus _off_ of becoming a professional dancer and onto becoming a professional competitive figure skater instead.

She’d been the she-devil at all of twelve-years-old to introduce him to the wonder that was Viktor Nikiforov on skates, turning his hobby of four years at the time into a goal and obsession that’s spanned the handful of years since Viktor’s iconic _Lilac Fairy_ performance that shattered international world records for the Junior Men’s Singles division.

Also without Yuu-chan he’d never have had the access to both the rink and coach for an amount his family could afford, so really, that Yuuri was embarking on a journey as an international exchange student thousands of miles away from home _was_ , in fact, partially her fault as well.

For five years he’d shared a rink and a coach with Yuu-chan and their friend Takeshi, now they were both continuing to study and compete nationally while Yuuri had gained enough attention to net a scholarship and a professional coach.

His goal might have started as wanting to skate on the same ice as his idol Viktor, and it still was, but that never would’ve taken him across the world if he didn’t love skating with everything he was.

Viktor showed him the beauty and artistry of the sport.

 _Yuuri_ was the one who skated until his feet bled, did extra chores and errands to help pay for lessons and gear and ice time, to learn and try to master the skills that would allow him to show that beauty and artistry to others.

To share his love and joy of the ice with them.

He’d gained attention – and sponsors which helped a bit for all that Junior skaters got less sponsors for less money than Seniors did – two years ago when he’d placed first at the All-Japan or the Japan Nationals, Junior Championship.  Enough that last year had been his first skating on the international level.  Thanks to winnings – however small – and sponsors he’d managed to skate in a handful of international events both small and large, ending the season ranked fourth for the Junior Division, a bronze at the 2010 Junior Olympics, and with several offers of scholarships and coaching contracts contingent on his senior skating career.

College was a compromise between Yuuri and his parents.

They supported him even though they didn’t understand his love and – well – _obsession_ with figure skating but they still wanted what was best for him.

That meant college, all agreed, since in the world of professional athletics figure skaters might not have the _shortest_ careers but barring injury the longest a Men’s Figure Skater could realistically compete was _maybe_ thirty and that didn’t even factor in whether they were still competitive at that age.

Of all the offers Yuuri received for both coaching and college, the Wayne State scholarship was the most inclusive, covering most of his coaching and rink fees as well as guaranteeing him a certain set number of hours with both each week, a key clause leading to his acceptance though it was much farther away than the offers from Japanese institutions.

A big part of it, from what he understood, was arranged by Coach Cialdini who hand-picked his students from all over the world, choosing only one every year or two from the Junior Division to bring into his program at the Detroit Skate Club that partnered with Wayne State University.

It was the right decision both for him and his career.

That didn’t mean it was easy.

Not in the least.

He’d had to leave behind everything and everyone he knew and loved – friends, family, his beloved dog Vicchan – _everything_ except for the ice.

It would probably be great for his focus once he got over the initial panic of settling into a new country, living situation, and routine plus the inevitable homesickness.

Whether it would be great for anything _else_ remained to be seen though at least thanks to the difference between the Japanese and American schooling systems Yuuri didn’t have to dive into new student orientation and classes until the Fall, allowing him to settle and find something like his equilibrium after all the upheaval… _and_ needing to begin thinking about his routines for the upcoming season which started earlier for the Junior division than the Seniors.

Yuuri would be Coach Cialdini’s only Junior skater this year despite the Japan Skating Federation making noises about moving up to Seniors.

He wasn’t ready for that.

He _knew_ he wasn’t ready for that step – not yet.

But coming off of an Olympic Season that saw the older skaters phasing out of competition after their final Olympic Season of their career – or _not_ if they failed to be selected for the limited Olympic berths – every skating union/federation/national club on the globe was eyeing up the young talent of the younger Seniors and older Juniors to find who might be the hidden gem that could lead to an Olympic medal in four years.

Yuuri, apparently, was Japan’s answer to having two of their top skaters announcing a final season and another expected to follow sometime before the next Olympic Season.

This despite the fact that his initial jump to Juniors from the Novice division had been… _okay_.  Not great.  At fourteen he’d started puberty and between growth spurts – which messed up the year after even worse – and a harder competitive circuit he hadn’t even made it to international competitions until last year.

All this when most skaters started on the ice years before Yuuri strapped on rental skates let alone fell in love with the sport and artistry of it.

Letting out a groan of relief when he finally made his way over to his new coach, Yuuri sighed.

Travel was _hell_ , especially transcontinental.

All he wanted was a shower, a _good_ meal, and twenty hours of sleep in no particular order since wishing for Vicchan-snuggles or a hug from his mother was just _asking_ to have him a weepy mess in the middle of an international airport.

…

Celestino Cialdini, professional figure skating coach and former Olympic Bronze Medalist, hadn’t quite known what to expect from his newest skater beyond the impeccable step sequences and a musicality on the ice that was second to none in the International Men’s Junior division and better than ninety-percent of the Seniors.

Yuuri had been quiet and respectful when he’d met with the teenager at the Junior Grand Prix Final.

On paper he was everything a coach could _want_ in a skater.

Talented.

Hardworking.

Focused.

Driven.

Competitive.

And Yuuri truly _was_ all of those things even if for the most part they were overlooked in the wake of his shy demeanor off the ice and introverted social tendencies.

There were certainly things Yuuri needed help with, not the least among them smoothing out the rough patches on his technical abilities to bring his technical elements scoring ability on-par with his evocative performances that had him taking home more than one gold medal in his division last season ending with a career-high ranking of fourth on the international circuit.

A ranking that was certain to be higher with Christophe Giacometti moving up to the Senior division this year, as the Swiss skater had consistently beaten Yuuri in technical scores thanks to having all triple jumps consistently a part of his programs along with a rock-solid quad toe loop, currently Celestino’s newest skater’s Achilles heel as far as scoring with a triple salchow that needed work and no quads as yet in the offing.

What Celestino _hadn’t_ expected was a stamina honed by being – in Celestino’s professional opinion – the most training-mad skater he’d ever coached.

That said, he hadn’t expected the anxiety or depression either, though whether those predated their association or had been brought on by the sudden changes to Yuuri’s life he wasn’t certain.

All he knew was that if he wanted his new skater to succeed, something had to be done about the situation.

One anxiety-driven panic attack after Yuuri flubbed his triple-sal a dozen times in a row at practice followed by a week-long cloud of soul-sucking depression-laced-apathy was enough.

He didn’t _care_ what platitudes Yuuri tried to pawn him off with.

He knew it wasn’t Yuuri’s fault.

It wasn’t _mental weakness_ or a personal failing no matter _what_ the skater had been culturally indoctrinated to believe.

He just wished _Yuuri_ knew that.

And if Celestino couldn’t help him see that then he’d bring the issue to someone who _will_ , come hell or high water.

Yuuri Katsuki had too much damn _talent_ to waste it because of a stubborn refusal to seek help.

Over Celestino’s dead _body_ would his best chance at coaching a top skater crash and burn before it ever took flight because of an issue for which help and remediation existed.

No.

Just no.

And thanks to Yuuri’s age and Celestino’s position as his guardian until the skater turned eighteen, there wasn’t much the skater could _do_ about it if his coach insisted on him seeing a counselor, no matter how many shouting matches, angry silences, and heated glares it got him in the process.

Celestino knew that forcing Yuuri into getting help wasn’t respectful of the teen’s personal agency and independence.

Celestino would also rather have a pissed off but healthy and happy Yuuri on his hands than one crippled with mental illness – a mental illness that could, if allowed to grow and fester, turn deadly with time.

He’d take the hit on the trust between them.

Just so long as it meant that he didn’t lose a young man he was quickly coming to care about because he wasn’t willing to step on his toes over a – real, but distant given Yuuri’s relocation – social stigma.

…

Dr. Sarah James held in a sigh at the mulish expression on her newest patient’s face.

As a sports psychologist who had a contract with the Detroit Skate Club, it wasn’t the first time she’d had a patient – even one this young – who was less-than-enthused about entering treatment for one reason or another.  It wasn’t even the first time she’d had a patient who’d ended up in her office at the insistence of a coach.  In her experience however, her patients from sports of all kinds tended to have a better therapeutic outcome when they’d sought help of their own accord…and that was before taking issues of culture into consideration.

The United States wasn’t the gold-standard for mental health – not by far.

However, in comparison to some countries that slapped a massive stigma on anyone with a mental health issue – and god forbid they actually _seek help for it_ – they were getting more progressive by the year.

Cast in point: one Yuuri Katsuki from Japan who had resolutely buried his issues with anxiety and depression – including panic attacks – under the label of _mental weakness_ when he’d been approached on the subject by his coach and his ability to receive the care he needed on Coach Cialdini’s insistence.

Whether he’d _accept_ it was another question altogether but at least his coach had gotten Katsuki’s butt in her client chair, anything else was on Katsuki and her ability to pry through the barriers the teenager had regarding mental health – his own and that of others.

From the lowered eyes, twitching hands and legs, and red tint to his cheekbones the teen _was not_ happy to be in her office.

And that was just fine.

It was her job after all to – if she couldn’t make him comfortable – at least try and lead him to accepting help.

Though given his love of his sport, she was safe in assuming she’d have his butt in her client chair at least once a week until he turned eighteen – longer if Cialdini was hardnosed on the subject and could wiggle his way through their contract to insisting on Katsuki continuing their sessions.

Given the coach’s reputation for being strict when necessary with his skaters, she felt that as long as Katsuki wasn’t alienated by therapy to the point of voiding the contract and going back to Japan or signing with another coach, he’d be her patient for a good while.

“Hello, Mr. Katsuki, may I call you Yuuri?”

“Yes, Dr. James.”  Yuuri nodded, swallowing harshly.  He’d been in Detroit three months and was knee-deep in refining his routines for his last Junior season and Celestino-sensei had him wasting training time at a _therapist_ to help with his mental weakness.

Of course, Celestino-sensei didn’t put it like that but Yuuri was capable of reading between the lines.

All it had taken was one of his _episodes_ and a disagreement over the matter and his coach had given him an ultimatum: go see Dr. James for help _or_ find his competition schedule curtailed to the bare-minimum allowed by their coaching contract.

Yuuri…Yuuri couldn’t abide that.

Almost any other demand short of trimming his ice time he would’ve taken a risk on getting around.

But not his competition schedule.

Not when this is his last year to try and becoming the International Junior Champion just like Viktor-san.

No, he’d see and talk to Dr. James…he just didn’t see the point of it.

He didn’t know how the woman with her soft sweater and rich – and very pretty – mocha skin with gentle eyes was supposed to help him with an issue he’d been dealing with off-and-on since his first skating competition.

An issue that had only gotten worse over time until it compounded with being far away from everything and everyone he’d used in the past to help prop himself up, especially Vicchan.

His mental weakness was just that _his_ and he didn’t know how anyone was supposed to fix him.

“Just Dr. James or Sarah is fine, Yuuri.”  Sarah smiled softly at the nervous young skater.  “Do you know why your coach insisted on your seeing me, Yuuri?”

“Because I’m…” he swallowed harshly again, shame scraping him raw on the inside.  “I’m mentally weak.”

“Is that how you see it, Yuuri?”  Sarah asked him with utter gentleness.  “As mental weakness?”

“Yes, Dr. James.”

“Okay, Yuuri.”  She noted the recurring labeling now that she’d heard it for herself and not secondhand from his coach.  “We’ll come back to that.  You’re here because you had a panic attack followed by a period of lethargy.  Can you tell me about that?”

“Um…”  Yuuri blushed brighter, eyes locked on his shoes.  “I think so…”

“Good.  Where do you want to start?”

“I guess it started when…”

…

_Author’s Note 2: For anyone interested in why I had Celestino send Yuuri to a sport psychologist instead of a counselor or what-have-you, here is a blurb from the APA website on Sports Psychology:_

_What Is Exercise Psychology and Sport Psychology?_

_Exercise psychology and sport psychology involve the scientific study of the psychological factors that are associated with participation and performance in sport, exercise and other types of physical activity. Sport psychologists are interested in two main areas: (a) helping athletes use psychological principles to achieve optimal mental health and to improve performance (performance enhancement) and (b) understanding how participation in sport, exercise and physical activity affects an individual's psychological development, health and well-being throughout the lifespan._

_Defining the Practice of Sport Psychology_

_Applied sport psychology is the study and application of psychological principles of human performance in helping athletes consistently perform in the upper range of their capabilities and more thoroughly enjoy the sport performance process. Applied sport psychologists are uniquely trained and specialized to engage in a broad range of activities including the identification, development and execution of the mental and emotional knowledge, skills and abilities required for excellence in athletic domains; the understanding, diagnosing and preventing of the psychological, cognitive, emotional, behavioral and psychophysiological inhibitors of consistent, excellent performance; and the improvement of athletic contexts to facilitate more efficient development, consistent execution and positive experiences in athletes._


	2. Chapter 2

** Culture Shock **

**Chapter Two: Adapting and Adjusting**

_August-September 2010_

Yuuri _hated_ that he had to take medication for his mental weakness.

Hated even more that because he had to take medication that it was noted in his ISU and JSF files for all the officials of both organizations to know lest he end up in a doping scandal.

Six weeks after his first “session” and did he _ever_ dislike that name for the meetings with Dr. James even after half a dozen of them, he’d adjusted to a low dosage of an anti-depressant and an as-needed medication for his anxiety and panic attacks.

Part of him was a bit… _relieved_ to know that his issues didn’t exist in a vacuum.

Enough other people dealt with similar things for there to be things like diagnoses and medications and proven therapeutic techniques.

That didn’t mean he had to _like_ any of it.

Though once again his family had proven to be above-and-beyond supportive a couple weeks prior when he’d marshaled his strength and courage and discussed the issues he had with them on one of their scheduled Skype calls…even if it was just another thing about him they didn’t really understand.

But then what else was new?

Other than his grades and drive when it came to school there wasn’t much about him his family had ever understood, an issue that Dr. James had broached with him before and a subject he liked even _less_ than most of the things they talked about in her comfortable office with its calming green and blue decorating but one he supposed they _needed_ to talk about since his issues regarding the sacrifices his family had made to get him to his current situation – sponsors, scholarship, and all – was a major impact on his anxiety along with the expectations of the JSF and fans of figure skating.

There was more to it than that but those were some of the big ones.

Honestly, he didn’t know what he liked _least_ “unpacking his issues” or his “cognitive therapy homework” with Dr. James.

Given that he wasn’t a complete wreck, over eating to alternately self-comfort or self-harm, or having issues sleeping however, he’d keep cooperating with her and going to therapy because as much as he didn’t like a lot of the process to the point of complete loathing he couldn’t argue with results.

Well…he could but even Yuuri wasn’t that stubborn and self-defeating.

When he stood on the podium of the first event of the season – historically one of his worst-placing performances throughout his career – to accept a silver medal he was a bit bemused.

Okay.

Maybe therapy – even for mental weakness – wasn’t the devil after all.

A month later when he took first in the Italian qualifier and sealed his invitation for the second year in a row to the Grand Prix Junior Final in December without a majority of the nausea, shakes, sleeplessness, overeating, and damaging thoughts he’d somehow become used to in the last year especially effecting him, even any backlash he’d inevitably face for being in therapy and taking medication to stabilize his mental health wouldn't pry him away from the comfortable routine he’d slipped into with Dr. James.

…

_Late September 2010, Wayne State University_

Yuuri walked into his first day of his Writing 101 class with a bit of apprehension.

His English had been getting better over the last five months he’d spent in Detroit, allowing him to score well enough on an English Second Language exam to place into any of the college courses he’d like, and his on-campus tutoring had been helping him polish his written abilities but even so the class was a bit intimidating.

His schooling had been structured after a lot of discussion between the college, Celestino-sensei, his academic advisor, and Dr. James to ensure that he wasn’t overly stressed during the skating season…even though that meant he’d be using the maximum time allowed by his scholarship to complete a degree of five years instead of four.  He was enrolled in only two academic classes and one dance class (which wasn’t worth the same number of credits as his academic classes) every Fall when he needed the most time on the ice, three classes and a dance class in the Winter once he’d gotten more familiar with his routines, and four classes and a dance class in the Spring with none taken at all during the practice-heavy Summer quarter.  Since most students took four or five classes a quarter, he’d be graduating approximately at the end of his fifth year of study though his last quarter would be a light quarter rather than a heavy one if everything went to plan.

He hoped everything went to plan.

They’d spent enough time hashing it out and making sure it met all the criteria of his scholarship after all and he’d never been a bad student albeit one more focused on skating than going above-and-beyond in his academics.

Yuuri wasn’t certain _what_ he was going to get his degree in though a minor in dance was a guarantee since he was taking a dance class every quarter and would only need to add in three non-dancing dance classes such as History of Dance and/or Performance Production plus a capstone project to add the minor onto his degree.

His agreement with his parents meant that either his major or a minor had to be business-focused so there was that.

For Fall however he was strictly taking a pair of prerequisite classes for most of the college classes in College Algebra and Writing 101 and leaving considerations of his major and minor (if he chose to minor beyond Dance) for later though a lot of the core curriculum requirements could double as introductions to a major and/or minor.

He’d figure it out.

In the meantime he was glad that he was in the lull of his skating season with only a few invitational events to attend until the Junior Grand Prix Final in December since he had to pay out-of-pocket for four less hours during the Fall than in the Summer with needing that time for homework or classes.

His coach was glad he had less time to practice, that was certain.

The first week Celestino-sensei had noticed how much time Yuuri spent in practice – on or off the ice – the Italian about had a heart attack.

Yuuri never thought he’d have a coach that was _happy_ for the time school and life took away from practice.

He found it the strangest thing about having the other man as his coach, bar-none.

Especially when the Italian figured out that while he could – theoretically anyway – bar Yuuri from the ice during the hours guaranteed by his contract with the coach if it was “in Yuuri’s best-interest as a skater” he couldn’t really do that when it came to the dance studio Yuuri had found near the rink or at the gym in his dorm.

Which was another change.

At least he had his own room on the same floor as the other skaters attending Wayne State whether they were figure skaters, speed skaters, or ice dancers since the dorm he roomed in catered to athletes of all kinds.

He didn’t want to _think_ about what the floor housing the footballers smelt like after a practice, once experience of that when he got off on the wrong floor when he was tired and not paying attention was more than enough, believe him.

His room might be small but being from Japan it wasn’t anything he wasn’t used to and growing up in an _onsen_ dealing with communal showers wasn’t a problem.

Small mercies.

Most of the other students in the dorm were also there on scholarship so they couldn’t really risk their future to party or otherwise break the dorm rules…though that didn’t stop them from hitting up Greek Row.

It was a culture shock from the quiet little town he’d grown up in, no lie.

But there was an anonymity both the campus and the city offered that was probably one of his favorite things about the change even when homesickness threatened to have him curling up in a miserable ball in his dorm room for the weekend and seeing a mini-poodle sent a shock of mourning straight to his heart.

The American diet – even in the cafeteria the athletes frequented that had healthier options than the other options – was another struggle for Yuuri to adapt to, making him happy that there was no rule against automatic water kettles and rice cookers in the dorm otherwise he might gain more weight than he could easily work off even with his – insane according to Celestino-sensei – practice and workout/training schedule.

It was a hassle doing dishes in the bathroom sinks but if it meant having halfway decent tea, soup, and rice, he’d deal.

He might’ve begged – just a lot – for his sister Mari to ship him tea from home.

Mari’s heckling aside _it was worth it_.

His sister could judge him all she wanted, she wasn’t the one dealing with what Americans considered _tea_ , getting a selection that wasn’t an assault to his taste buds was worth all the heckling, judging, and torture Mari subjected him to.

Yuuri took a seat in the second row of desks and lowered his facemask before digging out his text book and laptop to take notes for the class.

He’d survived American tea.

He could survive Writing 101 too.

If nothing else his “positive self-talk” would give Dr. James a new subject to discuss at their next meeting.

…

_December 2010; Detroit Skate Club_

Celestino wasn’t certain he’d ever had a skater he’d been prouder of than when he’d watched Yuuri Katsuki – kicking and fussing all the way – accede to the need to continue seeing Dr. James even after he turned eighteen.

There had been ups and downs, especially in the couple of months as the sports psychologist felt her way to the right combination of medication and therapy techniques to punch through the wall of Yuuri’s Japanese pride and stoicism to make real progress with the teenager.

Working with skaters for more than a decade, Celestino never underestimated the impact of a skater’s pride and ego on everything they touched.

Some were pure arrogant bravado.

Others were rightfully cocky.

Then there were those like Yuuri whose normal modest behavior would fool one into believing he didn’t have an ego to speak of at all.

 _Those_ were the tricky ones as since they were quiet about it you often didn’t know you were about to run into an issue of pride and ego until you were neck-deep in trouble and dealing with an insulted skater.

Adding in the hormonal difficulties of a teenager to the mix certainly didn’t help things either.

But underneath the cocktail of pride, ego, and culturally-influenced shame, Yuuri was driven enough regarding his skating career to not immediately disavow anything that could help him succeed…no matter how much it initially grated and clawed at him.

Given the _moods_ Celestino had been treated to during those first two months of Yuuri’s therapy he didn’t envy Dr. James her sessions with him _at all_.

If the silver at the John Curry Memorial had been a starting point to acceptance on the part of Yuuri, his gold in Italy had been the tipping point.

For the sake of not only his skater’s career but also his well-being he hoped that Yuuri at least podiumed at the Junior GPF.

Anything else and he feared a serious backsliding in his skater’s treatment and mental health…the sort he really couldn’t afford during his final Junior season.

…

 _“Yakov…_ ”

Yakov Feltsman, perhaps the premier single’s figure skating coach in the world, growled under his breath at the utter _whine_ coming from the mouth of the undisputed – now that Stephané Lambiel retired after taking the Olympic Gold last season – top Men’s Singles Senior Figure Skater in the world.

He’d coached champions before the whiny brat and he was certain he would coach more after this one but there was no question that Viktor Nikiforov had left an indelible mark on figure skating by ratifying not one but two quad jumps in competition: the quad loop and the quad flip, the latter of which had become his trademark after he’d used it to great effect to score a Silver at the Olympics and sweeping Gold at all of the other major competitions the prior year.

Which wasn’t uncommon for an Olympic year as many countries and skaters pulled out of the other major competitions of the season to concentrate on the Olympics alone.

Vitya had never been that way and likely he never would, in need of the heat of competition the way other people needed water and air.

That didn’t make him any less of a brat, however.

The latest thing he was complaining about, which was quite unbecoming of not only a reigning World Champion and _adult_ about to turn twenty-two-years-old, was being forced to sit through the Junior competition events of the GPF when he wasn’t practicing.

Granted, this year there weren’t any of Yakov’s students in the Junior division though he had a few promising novices so the complaint wasn’t completely unwarranted…the first time.

The ongoing whining on the other hand simply reinforced Yakov’s decision to, er, _encourage_ – punish – Vitya to check out the upcoming class of Juniors who would likely be making their Senior debut next season.

A task which the GPF is particularly suited for as the Junior and Senior events run at the same time instead of being separated by a week or more like the rest of the major figure skating competitions on the international level.

 _“Stop complaining, Vitya.”_ Yakov snapped in Russian as he grabbed the back of Vitya’s red Team Russia jacket from the last Olympics and tugged him back into his seat when the skater looked like he might run off while Yakov was focused on the Junior Short Programs.  _“You know as well as anyone that more Juniors are going to be bumped to Senior level in the next two seasons as the veterans retire.  A bit of research into your upcoming competition is never wasted.”_

Viktor huffed and resisted the urge to slump into his seat with crossed arms.  He was aware – maybe more than most – of the attention he tended to get from the media due to his record setting both as a Junior and a Senior skater.  When you held World Records across the board in both divisions, ratify quads, and made the podium in every competition you entered – barring injury or illness – you _always_ had media attention during events.

And that was before he’d discovered social media, which had only boosted his profile in the public eye.

He particularly liked the newest social media app, Instagram, which was focused on pictures instead of tweets or status updates like Twitter and Facebook.

It wasn’t as popular – yet – but he thought it would eventually get there.

And if he filled his Insta account with pictures of Makkachin or the amazing places he got to travel to – when he could escape Yakov and explore the cities that hosted events – that was his business.

 _“Who should I be paying attention to then?”_ He asked with a sigh, knowing that Yakov probably – most likely – already told him but his memory for anything other than his routines and Makkachin wasn’t the best to the point that Yakov and his rinkmates often called him an airhead.

Yep, throbbing vein in Yakov’s temple: he’d definitely told him, probably more than once.

“ _There’s a few skaters with real potential but one in particular is already at Senior level in performance scoring, he only needs work on his jumps to make his technical scores compare.”_ Yakov restrained the urge to yell.  If the Juniors weren’t competing at the moment he _would_ , cameras and attention bedamned but no matter how frustrated he got with Vitya he would never intentionally sabotage a skater by yelling at the brat.  _“Yuuri Katsuki from Japan.  He moved for college and got himself a better coach, performing better in the qualifiers than he did last year, though he made the GPF then too but only took Bronze..."_ He paused, almost humming under his breath then added _: "He's also the reigning Junior Olympic Bronze Medalist.”_

_“What am I paying attention to?”_

_“Spins and step sequences.”_ Yakov told him gruffly then smirked at his cocky brat.  _“Most of the time they were better than yours – last year – and he’s only gotten better under Cialdini.”_

Viktor sat up at that, interest snagged, typing into his phone to bring up the lineup for the Junior Short Programs.

Katsuki was the skater after next, performing a program to an arrangement of the first movement of Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata…a program without quads from the synopsis posted on the ISU’s website instead of trying to add quads as many Juniors in their last year did, which fit with Katsuki’s theme of “under the moon.”  His Free Skate was to Debussy’s Clair de Lune…which was a tricky piece to skate to depending on the pacing and arrangement with a lot of quick notes in the middle of the piece.  Moonlight had the opposite problem, especially the first movement: being so mellow for much of the piece that it would be difficult to insert the required jumps without having them come off as discordant.

If he could manage it…that would be impressive.

The eighteen-year-old skater from Japan didn’t have quads in his programs, apparently convinced he could win without them…and neither had Viktor as when he’d been a Junior it was before the heavy emphasis on the punishing technical jumps.

Interesting.

If the Japanese skater could live up to Yakov’s rare praise – even if it was half intended to irritate Viktor’s pride – watching the Juniors might not be a waste of his time after all.

Two programs later – neither were very impressive for all that they were from two of the top six international Junior skaters in the Men’s division – Viktor sat back up and locked onto the ice with a focus generally limited to his own practices and little else.

Yakov and the others could mock his airheadedness everywhere else but even the old man had to admit that when it came to his skating there was nothing lacking in Viktor’s drive and competitiveness.

He spotted who must be Yuuri Katsuki standing with a tall, long-haired man he recognized as Coach Cialdini who’d had mediocre success with his students since retiring from competition and turning to coaching.  The teenager was wearing a one-piece skating outfit of an opaque airy material that fluttered a bit around the underside of his arms and hips in a rich navy/dark purple/black mélange with speckles of silver and bright moonlight-white that brought to mind a crystal-clear night sky.  Very nice, especially the sequins in silver and white on the ankles of his boots.

Tasteful, appropriate, but not overdone which can be a hard balance to strike for younger skaters.

Katsuki took his place on center ice after a lap of waving to the fans, moving into his opening position: fourth position with his arms en haut which had Viktor cutting a glance at Yakov.

_“Dancer?”_

_“Mmm.”_ Yakov grunted rather than answering the obvious.  If the brat didn’t realize it from the opening position: he would as soon as he saw Katsuki’s footwork and flexibility.  _“Just watch, Vitya.”_

Then the music began, only instead of the classic piano interpretation soulful, evocative guitar poured from the speakers giving new life to the rote piece, new life that left Katsuki plenty of room to add jumps without disrupting the flow of the music.

Not that he needed it.

Viktor stared, eyes wide, as a skater several years his junior seemed to _make_ the music with his body and skating, musicality almost pouring from every inch of the not fully-grown teenager.

 _“Cialdini’s been good for him.”_ Yakov scowled.  He was pleased for the skater, don’t get him wrong…but his life would’ve been _so much easier_ in the coming years if Katsuki hadn’t returned this season after polishing his jumps and technical aspects of his skating.  Though if he still didn’t have reliable quads – and all signs pointed that way – then at least he had a bit of breathing room as winning without them in the Senior division anymore almost took a miracle.  _“Not even a wobble on his triple salchow and it’s always been his weakest jump.”_

 _“No axel though…”_   Viktor frowned, cocking his head a bit to the side as he watched the young skater move into the second half of his short.  Then he blinked as he moved right into a triple-axel/triple-toe-loop/double-loop combination.  _“Never mind then.”_

And they were _clean_.

Granted, Viktor was younger than Katsuki when he had his final Junior season but unless Katsuki fell or seriously screwed up he was pretty sure he was watching his SP world record disappear before his very eyes, if not at this competition then later in the season when Katsuki has had ever more time to polish his routine.

Yakov was right as Katsuki moved into a complex step-sequence that he’d bet was at least a Level Four and better than what ninety percent of the Senior division could manage.

This kid from Japan _was_ serious competition if he kept this level of ability in the difficult competitive atmosphere of Seniors…which wasn’t a guarantee.

The pressure got to more than one promising young skater – or injuries from trying to push forward to quads before their bodies were ready for the punishing jumps truncated their careers.

Not that Viktor would ever _admit_ that Yakov had a point about Katsuki…if only for the principle of the thing.

…

Yuuri spun into the finishing pose of his short program barely breathing hard.

Realizing his stamina, Celestino had allowed him to move his most complex step sequence of his short program to the second half as well as his jump sequence with his triple axel but even that didn’t press him too much thanks to the almost melancholic tone of his program music which allowed him to be more fluid and lyrical than fast and snappy on his skates.

Moving from his finishing position as the crowd cheered – not as loud as they would for the Seniors but still a pretty good turn out – he waved and addressed the crowd in several turns to face each section of the stadium before skating toward the Kiss-and-Cry, snagging a cute Eevee plushie on the way.  Celestino was waiting for him at the pass-through with a beaming grin.  He knew before his coach even said anything that it was the cleanest he’d skated Moonlight even though he felt a few places where he needed to clean up his edges or almost wobbled on his jump landing.

“Yuuri!”  Celestino greeted him buoyantly, clapping his skater on the back and ushering him over to the bench in the Kiss-and-Cry.  “You did fantastic!  How do you feel?”

“I need to work on my edges in the middle movements in the field.”  Yuuri told him in a deadpan despite the smile tugging at his mouth.  He was comfortable enough with the coach at this point to tease him – just a little.

“ _Yuuri_.”  Celestino scoffed, rolling his eyes a bit.  “Be serious.”

“Steady.”  Yuuri answered seriously as requested, tucking the Eevee plushie into his side under his arm as he waited for the results.  His grin was fierce and eyes were bright.  “I’m _going_ to take Nikiforov’s record this year or die trying.”

Celestino nodded, laughing.  “There’s the competitive Yuuri I’ve come to expect at the rink.”  He would’ve said more but the announcement for Yuuri’s scores being in rank through the rink as the clearers finished clearing away the toys and flowers that had been rained down on the ice after Yuuri’s performance.

For the short program they usually drew lots for skating order unlike the Free Skate that was determined by their short program scoring from last-to-first, this time Yuuri was second to last, leaving only one more skater to follow…and honestly, Celestino wouldn’t want to be sixteen-year-old Michele from Italy having to follow Yuuri’s performance…and that was _before_ his score came in.

“ _Yuuri Katsuki for the short program has earned a score of ninety-nine point five-six points, a career-best.  Yuuri Katsuki is currently in first place.”_

Laughing – and tearing up a bit though neither would mention it – the two read the breakdown on the reader board:

_Technical Elements: 45.32_

_Performance: 54.24_

_Combined Score: 99.56*_

_*Season and Career Best for the Short Program_

…

“ _Yakov…”_   Viktor pouted – just a bit – at the score.

_“Vitya.”_

_“He’s going to take my World Records!”_ He whined – and was kinda proud of the upcoming skater.  World Records never stayed, he knew.  Ratifying jumps or pioneering a new jump or move – _that_ never went away or became a footnote.  But – eventually – someone came behind you and snatched away your world records, even if it took years.

Which in this case was looking like six years for an upcoming Junior to take his Junior World Records…for the short program score anyway, his Free Skate and combined score remained to be seen.

But considering how close – and Viktor was talking less than five points, close – Katsuki had come to taking his SP world record he wasn’t willing to take any bets on the others staying either.

Yakov heaved a sigh, shaking his head.

 _Vitya_.

Other coaches should consider themselves _blessed_ that they didn’t have to deal with a brat – monster skating machine aside – like Vitya.

_“Considering he didn’t peak last year until Worlds that’s entirely possible.”_

_“Yakov!”_   Viktor gasped, clutching his jacket over his heart.  _“How unsympathetic!”_

 _“You want my sympathy, brat!”_ Yakov bellowed before lowering his tone when the Junior from Italy – looking a bit shaken after Katsuki’s stellar performance – took to the ice.  _“Then listen and clean up your step sequences or when Katsuki enters the International Senior division you’re_ really _going to need it when he kicks your spoiled ass in performance scoring even if he can’t touch – yet – your technical ability.”_

Pleased that the message – he hoped – had been received Yakov huffed and stood when it seemed the pressure of having to follow Katsuki’s performance had rattled the young Italian skater, moving to leave the stadium with a hand tugging Viktor after him lest he lose him to wandering around the city instead of getting ready for his own short program later that night.

…

Celestino was less than surprised when Yuuri wanted to go watch the Men’s Seniors compete that night.

Honestly, if Yuuri _didn’t_ want to go he’d have been shocked down to his toes since he knew that Yuuri in turns emulated Nikiforov and wanted to challenge the skater who had yet to have a rival emerge this season after the last two years of only _really_ facing a challenge from Stephané Lambiel, though it looked like Yuuri’s own former rival Christophe was going to give it a shot having qualified for the GPF on his first year in the Senior division.

How successful he'd be at going head-to-head with the face of Russian figure skating Celestino wasn’t sure…but it also wasn’t Celestino’s problem until next year or the year after depending on when Yuuri was ready to join the international level of Senior competition.

It wasn’t unheard of for a skater making the jump from Juniors to Seniors to spend the first year or two competing strictly on the national level or competing at minor international events rather than trying for the major competitions: the Grand Prix final, Europeans or Four Continents depending on what country they skated for, and the Worlds.  It gave the younger skaters a slow introduction to the trials and struggles and fierce competitive atmosphere of Senior-division skating.  A half-step almost into joining the elite skaters on the international level…though when Yuuri made that move he wasn’t likely to have _serious_ competition on the national level given that the top Japanese figure skaters were retiring, the Men’s Seniors at least.

Yuuri was a Nikiforov fanboy for all that he was a low-key one.

(Though Celestino would likely revise that low-key status if he’d ever seen the inside of Yuuri’s bedroom in Hasetsu or his dorm room in Detroit with their scattering of Nikiforov posters and other fan paraphernalia.)

Celestino couldn’t blame his young skater for being a fan of Nikiforov and there were much worse skaters for the up-and-comer to emulate…as long as he didn’t absorb Nikiforov’s ability to drive his coach to screaming fits and drink with his antics.

This year Nikiforov’s theatricality was on full display with his theme of Immortality and choosing a pair of songs – instrumental version or not – from Queen: _Princes of the Universe_ for his short program and _Who Wants to Live Forever?_ For his Free Skate, with equally flamboyant outfits in leather, bedazzled skate boots, and illusion mesh.

Yuuri was wide-eyed at Celestino’s side all through the performances, drinking it all in – though blushing at the more, er, _adult_ performance that Christophe put on now that he’d bumped up to Seniors – until he went so still when Viktor took his place at the entrance to the ice in red-leather pants and silver everything else, including red-and-silver sequined detailing on his skate boots, that Celestino had to look and make sure he was still breathing.

Which he was, one worry off his mind, though it was rather shallow and his eyes were the size of dinner plates.

“Breathe, Yuuri.”  Celestino nudged him in the side, carefully hiding a laugh at the awe-struck expression the kid had on his face.  He supposed he couldn’t blame him.  It wasn’t everyday you actually got to see your idol perform in person – and better that Yuuri got the adulation out of his system before he was expected to compete against Nikiforov.  “You don’t want to pass out before Viktor finishes his program, do you?”

Yuuri furiously shook his head, dramatically sucking in a breath, and unclenched if only a little as Viktor took the ice.

Though it was a good thing Celestino couldn’t read minds.

After all, seeing his idol aside, the only thing in Yuuri’s head at seeing Viktor Nikiforov dressed in sheer silver illusion mesh and red leather pants was something along the lines of:

_“Damn.  I’m sooo gay.”_

…

Viktor sat, stunned, as he watched the blades of Yuuri Katsuki shine and slice and glide across the ice having absolutely no problem at all keeping pace with the fast-tempo portion of Clair de Lune.

If anything he almost made it seem like the music was trying to keep up with _him_ not the other way around as he cut across the ice in a symphony dressed in white with flashes of dark purple and blue that echoed his Moonlight outfit but reversed with more silver detailing.

He looked almost angelic in the outfit in comparison to the near-demonic speed of his skates as he moved through his middle step-sequence and jumps before slowing once more towards the end of the song.

He’d been right.

His records were in _serious_ jeopardy.

Yakov as ever was less-than-sympathetic, merely telling him to “consider it motivation” when Katsuki officially won Gold with a Free Skate that snatched up the first of Viktor’s three Junior World Records.

He groaned under his breath.

The press were going to talk about _nothing else_ he already knew it, and the season was barely begun.

…

Yuuri stared, stunned in disbelief, at the little _WR_ next to his Free Skate score as Celestino shouted in celebration and hugged him, Yuuri barely able to feebly return the embrace, patting his coach on the shoulder.

That he’d won Gold at the Junior GPF barely registered in comparison to the new World Record that would have _his_ name next to it instead of that of Viktor Nikiforov.

…

Unable to let sleeping dogs lay, Viktor turned in an out-of-this-world performance of his _Who Wants to Live Forever_ routine, netting himself a new World Record for the Senior Men’s Free Skate score to replace the Junior World Record he’d lost earlier that day.

Yakov, damn him, hadn’t been wrong after all.

Viktor had found a new method of inspiration in one Yuuri Katsuki and his record-snatching lyrical skating.


	3. Chapter 3

** Culture Shock **

**Chapter Three: A Matter of Motivation**

_End of April 2011; Detroit_

“How are you handling the pressure of finishing your Junior career on a high, Yuuri?”  Dr. James asked after her patient returned from his triumphant finish at Junior Worlds where he’d taken the last remaining Junior World Record that had eluded him: the total combined score having taken the Free Skate at the Junior GPF and the Short Program at Nationals.  It was a lot of heavy expectation to put on his shoulders.  A lot of talk about his being able to rival the two-time World Champion whose records he’d broken.

It would be near-crippling for many young skaters.

For one that already had issues with anxiety and living up to expectations it could be so much worse if allowed to fester.

But then: that was what the Detroit Skate Club and Japan Skating Federation paid _her_ to handle and manage.

“Half dream-come-true and half terrified out of my mind.”  Yuuri answered truthfully, having learned over the months they’d spent in this office that in the end she’d get the real story out of him anyway.  Why waste either of their valuable times with trying to dodge it?

Though he still did…sometimes, depending on what the topic in question was.

“Would you care to elaborate?”

Yuuri took a deep breath, stilling the jitters in his stomach for a moment and clenching his hands together to keep them from fidgeting.  It had been months since he’d needed his anti-anxiety medication to get through a session with Dr. James and he didn’t want that to change now.  The only time he needed them anymore was during competitions and press events, the rest of the time together with talking things out with either Dr. James or Celestino and having a plan ahead of time for things that would trigger him into an attack he could – usually – manage without them on the day-to-day.

“I broke Viktor’s records.”  He huffed a disbelieving laugh, looking up from studying his shoes to meet the bright whiskey eyes of his therapist.  “That’s both amazing, something I didn’t really believe could be done given how untouchable he’s always been unless you were another near-peerless skater like Lambiel or maybe Boitano if they’d skated at the same time.  And it’s terrifying because _I_ did that and all I can think about is what comes next?”  He gave a bitter smile.  “The press and fans are certainly _full_ of ideas while I’m still stuck in shock that I managed to break _one_ of his records let alone three.  It’s something that I would’ve said was impossible a year ago.  Now everyone is making out like I’m this big _rival_ for Viktor and all I want is to skate on the same ice as him and compete against him.”

“Not win?”  Sarah arched a knowing brow.  She’d gotten to know this particular patient’s competitive streak – which was just as alive and well if not as vicious as any other professional athlete she’s worked with over her career – and didn’t believe that for a second.  It was whether he _believed_ he could do it which was the problem.

Push come to shove, sometimes Yuuri was too modest for his own good for all that his fans loved his shy behavior off the ice.

Yuuri blushed, muttering something down at his feet once more.

“When we started these sessions, Yuuri.”  Sarah noted contemplatively.  “You told me that all you wanted was that exact same thing: to skate on the same ice as Viktor Nikiforov as equals.  Now you’ve broken his records from his Junior career.  So,” she smiled at him once he looked up.  “Homework for while you’re visiting home over Spring Break.”

A visit that had taken more than a little nudging from Sarah to get him to agree to but one she was convinced he needed to see for himself how he was viewed by his country, friends, and family that would – hopefully – shave off a few layers of his underlying self-effacing behavior that after his depression and anxiety was the key thing affecting his professional career and personal well-being.

 _Some_ modesty was good, healthy even.

Too much could be as harmful and hindering to a professional athlete as a physical injury.

He was hamstringing himself with his disbelief of his own value and worth and worse: he couldn’t even see it.

“I want you to review as many of Viktor Nikiforov’s final Junior season skates as you can side-by-side with your own skates from the same or similar events.  GPF qualifiers, GPF, Nationals, etc.”

Yuuri perked up at that since it sounded more like the sort of thing he’d do for fun than _work_.

Of course, Dr. James wasn’t done yet.

“Then,” she continued with a dry glance at her patient.  “I want to – as objectively as possible – compare the individual elements of each skate, not just the total scores that were awarded.  What level were Viktor’s step sequences?  What were yours?  How did his jumps score?  What was his height and speed like?”

Yuuri’s excitement steadily decreased until he was almost pouting when the sum of what she was asking hit him.  Dr. James was asking him to pick apart Viktor’s routines from six years ago piece by piece.  It was the sort of thing that made him want to break out in hives.  Viktor was his _idol_.  He didn’t want to nitpick his routines from years ago though he didn’t have much problem putting his own under a microscope since he’d need to do it in order to continue improving for next season.

“Now,” she smiled serenely.  “Tell me about your trip home.  What are you looking forward to most, Yuuri?”

…

_Spring Break 2011, Hasetsu, Japan_

Yuuri didn’t know if he’d ever get used to social media, let alone grow to like it the way Yuu-chan did.

At least on a personal and/or professional level since there were perks for looking at other people’s posts and things he just didn’t much like having to post and tweet himself.

He’d had Facebook like anyone else in his age group but it was a personal thing where he mostly kept in touch with a handful of friends and family, a function which had gotten a _lot_ more use since he moved for school and training in the States.

Yuu-chan had pointed out – rightly though he didn’t like to admit it – that if he was going to be a professional athlete he should at the very least sign up on the most popular social media sites to keep others from impersonating him, which he had a hard time believing anyone would _want_ to but then people were weird, and have a way to connect with fans and other skaters if he wanted to.  He was able to run his “professional figure skater” Facebook pages (yes, he had two, one in Japanese for his home country fans and another in English for everyone else) from his personal page which was mostly posting duplicate posts in Japanese and English every month or so with his results from various competitions or a thank you message for his fans.  His Twitter was a different matter.  But, since there was a character limit, he didn’t have to worry too much over coming up with something to say.

Dr. James approved whole-heartedly of his using social media to connect to his fans.

She said that the buffer of the screen and being able to review and edit his posts before they became public lessened the inherent anxiety attached to in-person contact since “there was no delete button in person.”

Yuu-chan had started pestering him about setting up a YouTube account and posting training videos or copies of his performances and getting on Instagram which was rapidly growing in popularity but he was still cautious – and anxious – about both ideas.

He knew she had a point – the follower count on his Twitter and Facebook accounts made that clear, a count that had jumped massively each time he performed this last season – but he was still hesitant.

Words were one thing.

Pictures and video, that was a little more – maybe a _lot_ more – than he was ready for.

Stepping off the train in Hasetsu, he was shocked to see his own face plastered all over the station walls as massive posters and banners from the promotional posters that the JSF sold – of which he received a small portion of the proceeds – of him in his short program, free skate, and exhibition outfits.

He was less shocked to see Minako-sensei and Mari standing next to each other to pick him up even though he was more than capable of making his way to Yu-topia, his family’s _onsen_.

“ _Yuuuuri!”_   Minako-sensei squealed – and yes, it was a squeal – as if she hadn’t seen him in _years_ instead of traveling and meeting him at several of his events as her schedule allowed.  Mari simply rolled her eyes at the ballerina’s theatrics, smirking as Minako-sensei, a long-time friend of the family even before Yuuri became her prized student, ran and threw herself at her little brother.  A weaker teen would’ve been bowled to the ground.

But then, Yuuri _was_ a professional athlete and figure skating – jumps in particular – took a level of strength that would surprise most people.

Minako was babbling about this or that – what sounded like half rhapsodies about Yuuri’s skating over the last year and half threats to get him back in her studio to ensure _those Americans haven’t ruined him_ – as Yuuri continued walking and towing his bags as well as Minako over to where Mari was still standing and waiting on him.

Soft, doe-brown eyes stared up at her with a timid smile until Mari sighed and unbent, patting him on his ruffled black hair that Minako’s greeting had messed up – it had grown out since he’d been in the States, brushing the bottom of his jaw and the back of his neck in places – saying:

“ _You did good, brat.”_ Mushy crap done, she snagged his rolling bag – knowing better than to go for his skate bag – and lit up a cigarette, leading the way back home as Minako started chatting the kid’s ear off again.

…

Coming home with six gold medals and a silver was something of a triumphant return, proof – for Yuuri at least – that he’d made the right decision in choosing to go so far from home to continue his career.

That his mom almost strangled him with hugs, his dad did a decent job at dislocating his spine with his back-pats, and Vicchan wasn’t content unless he was snuggled up in Yuuri’s arms were just the sort of welcome he’d been hoping for but his _negative self-talk_ as Dr. James put it had convinced him wasn’t likely to happen since it was only the Juniors and he hadn’t been gone that long and his family had sacrificed so much for him and, and, and.

Of course, he’d had to limit his mom on the katsudon no matter how much it killed him to do it.

He put on weight easily in the off-season and six servings – one for each gold medal – in ten days was enough, given that they were three-thousand calories per bowl, to have Celestino’s head explode.

“ _Just four servings, spread through the trip, Mama_.”  Yuuri explained even as he leaned over the bowl of delicious pork cutlet, rice, egg, and sauce.  “ _Save the others for next year since only two of the competitions I’ve talked about with my coach would count for_ _katsudon.”_

 _“Oh?”_   Mama Katsuki asked, as she returned to join her family at her baby boy’s welcome-home dinner, though Minako-san was sure to return later.

 _“I’m only doing two events next year – or maybe only one if the JSF doesn’t agree to place me in the NHK Trophy since I’m not_ really _competing internationally next season – that would award medals.”_ He explained between bites of luscious goodness.  _“All-Japan and the NHK Trophy.  The rest are either qualifying events for All-Japan or minor events like the Japan Invitational and the Chicago Cup that won’t have me traveling around the globe to attend.  We plan to introduce me slowly to the Senior Level rather than going for it all at once.”_ He hesitated a long moment then finished the reasoning behind his and Celestino’s decision.  _“We think that’ll help with my anxiety over making the division jump.”_

 _“Well, whatever you and your coach think is best.”_ Mama Katsuki agreed blithely not pausing even a moment over her son’s anxiety coming up.  Yuuri and Mari weren’t the only ones able to use technology after all and there were a lot of excellent resources on the internet for families on the subject.  What struck her was how _serious_ Yuuri’s issues could’ve become in some of the ‘worst-case’ examples she’d read if he’d never gotten help – even if it had been on his coach’s insistence at first that he’d gotten it at all.

And that was that.

…

“ _Hn_.”  Minako arched a brow as her best and most promising student – that she’d lost to figure skating a fact she kicked herself over every now and then – moved through the same opening stretches she’d had him practicing for years.  _“Maybe those Americans haven’t ruined you.”_

Yuuri huffed out a laugh as best as possible with his leg stretched out before him on the barre and his chest laying completely flat against it.

 _“Thanks, Minako-sensei.”_ He snarked lightly back at her.

They continued to talk as he moved from one position to another, stretching and warming his muscles as light classical music played softly in the background.

 _“Your Snow Fairy routine.”_ Minako mentioned his exhibition skate which was done to the opening theme of the anime _Fairy Tail_ , he’d even dressed all in white with a Japanese-influenced wrap top with a Fairy Tail guild emblem covering his upper back in bright blue.  _“Who choreographed it?”_

 _“Um…”_ Yuuri blushed then admitted: _“I did most of it and Celestino polished the rest and helped adapt it to include jumps.”_

 _“It was better than anything you skated before this season.”_ She told him bluntly, one finger tapping against her bottom lip as she watched him with eagle-sharp eyes for any tightness in his limbs or hesitation going into positions.  _“More you looked like you really_ enjoyed _what you were skating.”_

 _“Well, there’s no pressure with exhibition skates.”_   Yuuri held in a shrug as he knew Minako-sensei would bark at him for the inelegant movement in her studio.  _“I don’t have to worry about scores or required elements, I can just skate and have fun.”_

 _“Hmm.”_ Minako hummed under her breath then moved to the music system and brought up a music piece Yuuri was _more_ than familiar with.  _“Enough stretching and put on your toe shoes.  Show me you haven’t forgotten my teachings entirely._ The Dying Swan.”

Yuuri held in a groan at the announcement of the punishing piece that was almost entirely _pointe_ work, a style of ballet dancing that was  _usually_ something only females were trained in but...well.  Minako-sense had never been  _usual._

Evil, on the other hand...

Yes.

Minako-sensei was _pure evil_.

This was supposed to be his vacation.  A nice relaxing break before going back to school and practice and working on routines for next season.

Instead he was in Minako-sensei’s ballet studio dancing a punishing ballet solo usually restricted to female ballerinas.

Still, he knew better than to complain.

If he _dared_ he’d be _en-pointe_ for the rest of the day not just until Minako-sensei was pleased with his performance of the solo piece.

…

 _“Yuuri,”_ his mother called out to him after he returned from another day split between visiting his friends at the local rink, Ice Castle Hasetsu, and his ballet practice with Minako-sensei who’d been running him through most of Swan Lake with some Firebird for flavor for the last four days since he’d arrived.  _“Come here please.”_

Sighing a bit, he toed off his shoes and slipped on slippers as Vicchan bounded over to him the mini poodle accepting no place but on Yuuri’s lap, bed, or arms since he’d returned for the break.

It was adorable and heartbreaking all at the same time.

Picking up his beloved pup, Yuuri murmured nonsense to him as Vicchan yipped and wiggled eventually settling with his head snugged up into the curve of Yuuri’s neck as he entered the dining room which was empty of both guests and customers who ate at the _onsen_ thanks to his mother’s excellent cooking.

His mom and dad were sitting at one of the low tables with a tea service before them, including a cup waiting for Yuuri’s presence.

“ _Good afternoon, Mom, Dad.”_ He nodded respectfully to each before lowering himself down into the place waiting for him, his mother pouring him a cup of tea and offering it with gentle hands.

They were holding hands under the table, he could tell from the position of their bodies and arms, a public display of affection that was rare except in strictly-family moments.

 _“Yuuri.”_   His father beamed up at him.  _“We wanted to talk about something that occurred to us after your sister did some research.  You’re an adult now and your finances are your personal business, though from what you’ve said here and there your sponsorships have increased with your wins last season and your entrance to the next level, yes?”_

Yuuri took a careful sip of tea, feeling more than a bit uneasy over the topic, running his free hand down Vicchan’s back to comfort himself since the dog had slipped down onto his lap when he sat down.

 _“Y-yes, they did.”_ He frowned, confused then rushed to add: _“I know business at the onsen hasn’t been good for the last year, I can send more money home…”_

His mother tsked, laughing lightly and shaking her head after sharing a _look_ with his father.

 _“That’s not it, Yuuri, rather the opposite.”_ His mother told him bluntly.  _“The onsen is our family business: yes.  One that Mari wants to inherit and take over when the time comes, an interest you don’t share, do you?”_

 _“N-no,”_ Yuuri blushed, a bit ashamed since the way it sounded was that he felt he was _too good_ for his family’s business.  _“Not really.  I took a couple business classes last quarter and a psychology class, they were both good I thought,”_ he sucked in a deep breath.  _“I thought I would look into majoring in sports management or coaching.”_

 _“That’s wonderful, Yuuri.”_   His father smiled brightly.  “ _You can do a lot with a degree in sports management, maybe even work for the JSF or ISU after you retire from figure skating.  We’re very proud that you’re taking your future seriously.”_

 _“But,”_ his mother spoke up with a knowing look at her stubborn son.  _“Not seriously enough.  Yuuri.”_ She sighed.  _“How much of your winnings and sponsorships did you send us last year?”_ She hurried to add when Yuuri frowned, confused.  _“Not the amount, we’re well aware of_ that. _What percentage?”_

 _“Uh, um,”_ he spluttered over the answer, blushing a deep red.  Then he muttered when their gazes didn’t veer away from him at his discomfort.  _“Half, sometimes more.”_

The senior Katsukis sighed almost in unison, shaking their heads.

“ _That’s what I meant about not taking your future as seriously as you should.  Mari looked up the purses you took home last season, Yuuri.  That alone, not counting your sponsorships, was forty-three thousand dollars, American, with only one second place finish.  You sent us over fifty thousand dollars last year.”_

_“Mom, Dad…”_

But his parents weren’t having any of his excuses, not in this matter.

 _“No.”_ His mother shook her head firmly.  _“That money could’ve been saved and invested for retirement or an emergency, Yuuri.  Going forward – whether it’s five dollars or fifty thousand – you’re only allowed to send us ten percent of your earnings.”_ She scolded him with a glance.  _“We’re the parents, Yuuri.  It’s our job to take care of you until we’re unable to do so, even when you've become an adult, and while your father and I_ are _getting older we’re not that old_ yet.”

 _“We love you, Yuuri.”_ His father softened the blow of his wife’s hard stance.  _“And appreciate everything you’ve done, including the money you sent that we used to fix up parts of the onsen and inn to attract more customers, but you need to think about yourself as well.  We’re going to_ trust _you not to try and send us extra, son.  If there’s an emergency, we’ll ask for help if you’ll promise to do the same.”_

Yuuri, who’d already been thinking up ways to get around his parents’ edict, shifted and blushed before reluctantly agreeing.

He needed to talk to Mari.

If there was anyone who knew a way for Yuuri to help his parents beyond the terms they’d set down, it was his sister.

…

Mari’s advice rang through his head as he sat on the plane to go back to Detroit.

It’d been simple: _use your fanbase, idiot._

If his parents wouldn’t accept _Yuuri’s_ money, there was no reason they’d object to increased traffic to Hasetsu and the _onsen_ , even if most of his fans didn’t stay at their inn and only ate in the dining room it would be more than what the _onsen_ would draw in naturally.

After all, if the City Council and tourism board was plastering the train station in his posters and using being the “Hometown of Junior World Champion Katsuki Yuuri!!” as a selling point there was no reason he couldn’t do the same for his family’s business.

And Minako-sensei’s ballet studio.

And Ice Castle.

There was a whole _world_ of people who followed his Twitter and Facebook accounts, especially after his wins last season and while he wouldn’t capitalize on it for his own sake…he wasn’t too proud to do it for his family especially as they’d put limits on his ability to help them otherwise.

With that in mind he set his jaw and pulled up Instagram and YouTube, going through the process to create accounts.

If he was going to do this there was no point in going at it half-heartedly.

That just wasn’t Yuuri’s style when it came to, well, _anything._

Luckily there weren’t many people with his name so using @KatsukiYuuri as his handle was still possible, streamlining his presence across all the platforms like Mari and Yuu-chan had suggested.

Social media was a lot of work, especially in the beginning.

At least Dr. James would be happy.

Both with that _and_ that he’d done his homework…even if Takeshi-san and Yuu-chan had had to help him be objective when going over his and Viktor’s routines from their respective finale Junior seasons.

…

**_Instagram @KatsukiYuuri_ **

[Picture: Family picture outside Yu-Topia with the sign featured prominently.]

Caption: _Home for Spring Break @Yu-Topia in beautiful Hasetsu #Hasetsu #Yu-Topia #KatsukiFamilyTime_

_chris-gia and 8.7k others <3 this post…_

[Picture: Yuuri bows low, presenting a lacquered wooden tray upon which six medals are arrayed in order from his silver at the John Curry Memorial to his World Champion Gold to his parents who had tears in their eyes in the dining room at Yu-Topia.]

Caption: _Presents for my biggest fans and supporters!  #KatsukiFamilyTime #KatsukiYuuri_

_Marrymeyuuri and 25k others <3 this post…_

[Picture: Yuuri and his father are on ladders, hanging up his medals in the display case in the dining room of Yu-Topia beneath two bronzes - one larger than the other with the distinct Olympic emblem shining - while his mother and sister direct them as everyone smiles and laughs.]

Caption: _Now on display @Yu-Topia #KatsukiYuuri #Hasetsu #Yu-Topia_

_Katsuki4Gold and 5.3k others <3 this post…_

_…_

Yuuri finished out the school year maintaining his 4.0 from high school even with the increased difficulty of the material and the training schedule that had him busy most of the time in preparation for his Senior debut season.

He hadn’t lied to his parents, he’d really enjoyed his psychology class in the Winter Quarter but he didn’t think it was something he’d want to do for a career.  He had enough problems dealing with his _own_ mental health let alone other people’s.  Though the human sexuality class that he’d taken to fulfil his diversity requirement was even more interesting even though he’d blushed through most of it.

It’d been an eclectic year, education wise, taking everything from business classes including his Intro to Sports Management class that confirmed his thoughts and had him declaring his major, to zoology and a couple psych classes to go with the basic writing and math classes he’d cleared off his plate.

Dr. James had had to coach him through more than one anxiety-riddled week after his parents ultimatum and his decision to use his minor fame to help draw business to Hasetsu and Yu-Topia, a dark period of the year that thankfully came during the training slump before he had to jump back into the full-throttle schedule over the summer as he worked on his new routines and got ready to compete at the next level.

Worse, once he was recovered from his second intense bout of homesickness, she’d had him take the work he’d done on comparing his and Viktor’s last Junior seasons and repeat it…this time with Viktor’s routines from the most recent seasons.

It was half the work with his own routines already graphed out and dissected but twice as nerve-wracking.

But the pair of assignments had made her point rather effectively.

Yuuri hadn’t beaten Viktor’s records out of luck or happenstance but out of _skill_ and while he still wasn’t at Viktor’s level in some areas…he was almost better if not at least on-par with the step-sequences and spins of the Russian.

He could still consider Viktor Nikiforov as his idol and there was nothing wrong with that…but he wasn’t an untouchable _god_ as he often seemed to be.  He was human.  A human skater who Yuuri would skate against.

More: a skater Yuuri was _worthy_ of skating against which was probably the realization Dr. James had spent months trying to beat into his head.

Strangely, that actually made him _more_ excited to hit the ice instead of less.

After all, he wasn’t _completely_ on Viktor’s level, not yet.

If Dr. James had been pushing him into finding his motivation outside of skating in the same event as Viktor, she’d definitely succeeded.

Celestino was ecstatic to say the least and set to work with Yuuri on routines and music selection.

Which…was maybe where his YouTube channel had backfired on him, just a bit.

It was mostly clips from training of him doing various jumps or other elements with posts of his routines that Minako-sensei had given him over the years for him to review or use in training but there were a few others…also from Minako-sensei of him in ballet tights and plain t-shirts dancing in her studio.

Stupid Swan Lake, giving Celestino _ideas_.

‘Taking Flight’ wasn’t the worst theme for a debut season ever, he supposed, and translating _The Firebird_ to ice for his Free Skate was actually quite a bit of fun.

Mashing up Swan Lake into a coherent narrative for his Short Program… _that_ he could’ve done without.

…

 _Author’s Note:_   So, I couldn’t find numbers for how much the prize money in Juniors is.  Instead I took the amounts that a Senior skater would earn and cut it down to a third of that amount.

For instance: Gold at GPF = $25,000

               Junior Gold at GPF = $7,500

 


	4. Chapter 4

** Culture Shock **

**Chapter Four: Taking Flight**

_August 2011, Tokyo, Japan_

One thing Yuuri was _definitely_ enjoying about moving up to Seniors even with the increased pressure was having another month or so in the summer to practice since the first Senior events took place in September except for a few invitational events in August, one of which had Yuuri flying back to Japan for the Japan Invitational that was filled mostly with lower-tier Senior skaters and Juniors making the jump to the Senior level from Japan and the surrounding countries.

There weren’t any skaters in particular that Celestino had told him to watch out for at the Invitational, the event serving as a _very_ slow start to his Senior career since he and Celestino had agreed to only a handful of events for the year with all but one taking place in his native Japan and the other close to his current home rink with the Chicago Cup.

In fact other than Nationals, the only high-tier competition Yuuri was slated for was the NHK Trophy as the JSF and ISU had approved him for it off of his triumphant final Junior year.

It was a two-fold decision.

If Yuuri placed high enough through the end of the season he’d be automatically seeded for _next_ season’s Grand Prix Series as well as being able to skip the qualifying events for the Nationals competition.

On the other hand, it also would give the skating officials a look at what Yuuri Katsuki: Senior Professional Figure Skater would perform like and if it would live up to the reputation of Yuuri Katsuki: Junior Professional Figure Skater as what the Senior division lacked in numbers compared to Juniors it made up in sheer talent and difficulty of competition.

Not that any of that was bad for his nerves and anxiety or anything…

But that was the price he paid to compete in the sport he loved and if anything over a year of therapy had taught him it was to take the good and be able to acknowledge the bad without drowning in it…though he wasn’t going to lie: when it came to keeping his mind from spinning and forcing him into a sleepless night before a competition his medication was better than any of the exercises Dr. James had taught him.

A benefit of spending last year as a Junior skater was that while his routines were still a little rough as expected at the very beginning of the skating season, he was _used to_ having to skate this early, which should carry him well through the Invitational and the Chicago Cup in two weeks before he had to return to Japan for his qualifying events in October and November.

It was a bit of a brutal schedule.

Seniors was more of a marathon than the sprint of Juniors depending on how many events one participated in or if they did ice shows in the off season or what-have-you.

For Yuuri this season looked like this: Japan in August, Chicago in September, then Japan _again_ once a month for October through January, and that was only if the JSF didn’t insist on him competing at Worlds depending on his placement at Nationals.

He wasn’t an idiot.

If he did too well his and Celestino’s plan would be chucked right out the window if it suited the JSF officials to give their country the best chance possible at a Senior world title.

He stretched in the waiting area off the rink entrance, knowing thanks to the luck of the draw that his turn was up soon in his gauzy black outfit with feathers creating the illusion of black and white wings plus sequins along his shoulders and hips to catch the eye.

At least if he was performing Swan Lake it was a mashup – no matter how big of a pain in the ass it had been to block out – allowing him to play more on the side of Odile’s Black Swan instead of Odette for his costume though his performance had only a thirty-second or so block of the Black Swan, taking more from Odette’s _Dying Swan_ solo than anything else…which he also thought deserved the black outfit given that in most versions of the ballet it ended with Odette committing suicide from betrayal and/or a broken heart.

The announcement came over the speakers and Yuuri shed his Mizuno jacket provided by his biggest sponsor, revealing the costume to the audience and the cameras that were airing the Invitational locally and the JSF would load the best pieces from onto their website.

**_From Hasetsu, Junior World Champion Katsuki Yuuri!_ **

It was a small arena, but you wouldn’t know it from the thunderous roar of cheers and applause that near-to shook the roof as Yuuri smiled and waved to the crowd when he did a lap of the rink before moving to center ice and lowering his head demurely and moving his feet into third position, his hands held before his hips with one higher than the other.

Then the music began with a soft murmur and he spun gracefully out in an arc, Odette’s swan embodied on the ice.

…

_St. Petersburg_

Viktor returned to his apartment after a grueling day of practice, happier than ever that he could afford a dog walker so he wouldn’t feel guilty on those nights – like tonight – where he just _couldn’t_ scrape up the energy to go back out into the St. Petersburg evening gloom to make sure his beloved Makka was taken care of.

Makkachin bounded over to him with a welcoming _boof_ , Viktor dropping his gym bag with his sweaty clothes to the side to sort out later and knelt, burying his hands in her soft poodle coat.

“Hello, Makka.”  He murmured as she slathered him in happy puppy kisses.

The two of them lavished each other with unbridled affection until his knees reminded him of his morning drills under Yakov’s stern direction that had him wishing for a hot soak and an ice pack.

Giving his beloved pet one final pat, he rose and moved to the kitchen, filling her dish with the right amount of food and fresh water in the other before leaving her to her dinner and slowly trawled back to the foyer to deal with his workout clothes before they started to stink up his apartment.

Laundry sorted and a simple salad and chicken for dinner later, Viktor buried himself up to his neck in hot water and Epsom salts in his lavish jetted tub, Makka gnawing on a chew toy on the bathroom mat while her owner clicked on his phone to check in on the world of social media and whatever news hit his dashboard and/or timeline.

Only the first alert he found – which was odd given that he’d checked his texts before leaving the arena – was a text from Christophe who he’d befriended over the last season.

Apparently, he’d made an impression on the Swiss skater when Chris had met him when they were novice and junior, respectively, and the up-and-comer had been nipping – albeit lightly – at Viktor’s heels all last season.

[Text: Received 18:53]

From: Chris 😉

Message: Have you seen this???

It was followed by a link to a website that he’d never seen before, but he clicked it anyway.  If Chris sent him a virus he’d never let the flirty asshole live it down, but it _looked_ like a legitimate website…he thought.  Given that he couldn’t _read_ any of it, anyway, only the ISU logo at the bottom something that made any sense to him.

The website had a YouTube video front-and-center on the page Chris sent him and, intrigued now by what he thought was a foreign skating association’s page, he pressed play.

It took all of a minute for him to almost drop his phone into the tub when he recognized the skater as the one that Yakov had been beating him over the head with to browbeat him into extra work on his spins and step sequences: Yuuri Katsuki, skating at what (thanks to translations in the comments when he followed the video back to YouTube to view it again) was a minor invitational event in Tokyo.

Worse.

He was skating to a pair of ballet-inspired routines and even without a single quad and clear polishing needed was going to be stiff competition at whatever events he entered.

Hands a bit damp from soapy water, Viktor was quick to pull up the ISU page and search for what events they had Katsuki scheduled for only to wilt in disappointment.

Putting his phone out of danger of the tub he sank down into the water with a pout.

_Such artistry!_

_Such emotion!_

And Viktor wasn’t going to get to skate against him.

“Makka!”  He whined, flailing as his beloved dog ignored him.  “Why does the universe hate me?!?!”

…

**_ Current Junior World Champion of Figure Skating Sweeps! _ **

_Yuuri Katsuki of Japan, a young skater entering his debut Senior season after a phenomenal performance in last year’s Junior division, has arrived and is on fire, sweeping through his first four events with first place finishes that have sports casters and ISU insiders alike babbling._

_While this outstanding start to his debut season has taken place at what can be arguably called minor events (Japan Invitational, Chicago Cup, Sectional and Regional Qualifying events for the All-Japan championship) it clearly points to the wise decision made pre-season for the JSF to seed Katsuki for the NHK Trophy, the only international competition the young phenom is scheduled for unless selected later in the season to represent his native country in the World Championship._

_The skater, a nineteen-year-old from Hasetsu, Japan and current student under Celestino Cialdini in Detroit, Michigan, USA, has received accolades throughout his Junior career for his musicality and evocative skating that has always seen him scoring highly in performance elements, if a bit lacking prior to last year in consistent jumps and technical ability._

_If anything has been made clear by Katsuki’s performance last year and thus far this season, it’s that there’s nothing lacking in his abilities anymore._

_~Colleen Fitzhugh, Skate! Magazine_

…

“Yuuri!”

The shout drew his attention across the hotel lobby as he arrived, _again_ , in Tokyo for the NHK Trophy with nothing short of massive frogs jumping around in his stomach having bypassed butterflies when his plane took off from Detroit.

Looking up from his phone and feeling like a zombie aside from the anxiety he was keeping at bay by the skin of his teeth until he could go up to his room and – quietly – take his meds and pass out.

They’d had to try a couple different combinations of medication to deal with his _fun_ combination of issues but the one he was on now was the best for his situation…if only the as-needed anxiety pill didn’t make him sluggish if he was already dragging he’d say it was perfect.

And after flying for hours and hours yet again, he was more than dragging and close to near-collapse.

It didn’t take him long to locate the owner of the shout.

One thing he’d learned over the years they skated together it was that Christophe Giacometti was _excellent_ at making himself noticed, a trait that had only grown since he’d made the leap to Seniors last season and did pretty well for himself with a gold at his Nationals and scoring top five or ten finishes in all of his events including a Silver at the Nebelhorn Trophy.

“Hey Chris.”  Yuuri tucked his phone away and smiled at the other skater as he waited for Celestino to return with their room keys.  “How’ve you been?”

“ _Abominably_ jealous, you overachiever.”  Chris scolded him lightly, complete with pout, before giving the pretty Japanese teen a quick hug and grope that had him blushing adorably and batting his hand away from his ass.  “ _Why_ did you have to go and show me up by sweeping golds?”  He whined.

“Please.”  Yuuri was having none of it, his often-hidden sass peeking out, complete with eye-roll.  “Says the skater that had a debut season that saw him with, what was it?”  He arched a brow.  “Sixth in the world finish?  I _bet_ I’m making you look bad you drama queen.”

Chris tossed his head back and laughed, happy to see that it was fun-Yuuri he’d found and not clouds-of-angst Yuuri.  Though from what he’d heard, clouds-of-angst Yuuri had been around a lot less ever since he’d moved to the States and gotten a new coach.  And if so, good for him even if Yuuri’s inconsistency had been one of the keys to Chris beating him in the past.

“True, true.”  Chris beamed down at the smaller skater.  “How are you feeling, darling?”  He asked in genuine concern, aware of Yuuri’s rather… _nervous_ temperament especially during competitions.

“Like I could use a drink, twelve hours of sleep, a massage, and a meal in no particular order.”  Yuuri said, deadpan as Chris tossed his head back and cackled.

“Then I’ll let you go, little darling.”  Chris winked then leaned down lightning quick and bussed a kiss on one cheek of the boy who was almost-but-not-quite two years his junior.  “As long as you _promise_ to come out to dinner with me tomorrow after practices.”

“Deal.”  Yuuri smiled, knowing it was likely the best offer he was going to get from the other skater.  Well, that, _and_ Chris was more than capable of tying him up for eternity in polite conversation and using Yuuri’s manners against him until he gave in.  Better to get it over with quick and get the meal, meds, and sleep he was dying for.  “See you in the morning, Chris.”

…

“You looked strong at practice today, _cher.”_   Christophe pouted a bit and leaned on his palm as after they slid into the booth at a restaurant near their hotel, Yuuri easily ordering for them both in rapid Japanese.  _Cooked_ everything which was nearly sacrilegious in Chris’s opinion given where they were but still wise.  Food poisoning – however unlikely – from sushi right before an event would be disastrous.  “What _has_ Coach Cialdini done to my sweet little bundle of nerves, hmm?”

Yuuri laughed softly.  There weren’t many who knew him well enough – internationally at least – to comment on the differences between this year and a couple years ago beyond the obvious growth and maturity.  Chris however was one of them.

Gregarious and charming with a flashy smile and extravagance that hid a caring heart, there wasn’t much he didn’t notice about his fellow skaters from Yuuri’s nerves to Michele’s overprotectiveness regarding his sister.

They were similar that way: there wasn’t much that passed beyond their notice, even if they went about it in different ways.

“I’m, uh…”  Yuuri stuttered a bit, blushing and thanking whatever deity was watching and taking pity when the waiter delivered their hot pot of tea with a smile and a short bow.  “I don’t have to worry as much anymore thanks to my scholarship, I guess.”

“Hmm.”  Chris hummed, arching a disbelieving brow that that was _all_ of it.  Some of it, that he could believe.  But all?  Not a chance.  Still, Yuuri was his friend – or at least one of the friendlier faces on the circuit – so he’d let it slide.  During a competition was hardly the place to be dogged about a potentially-upsetting subject anyway.

He wanted to win: don’t get him wrong.

But he didn’t want to do so because of an underhanded trick like intentionally upsetting another skater.

“You’re liking America, then?”  Chris obligingly changed the subject as the waiter returned with their bowls of broth – a type of onion soup with a few mushrooms and pieces of tofu – then left again.  “It’s very different than Japan.”

“Different is one way to put it.”  Yuuri wrinkled his nose, pushing up his thin-framed navy glasses that he didn’t really _need_ but helped him keep a bit of anonymity between his on-ice persona and his day-to-day self.  And also gave him something to focus on when he needed to fiddle with something thanks to his nerves.  “Culture shock is the least of it.  Detroit couldn’t be farther from Hasetsu if it was _literally_ on the other side of the globe.”  He grimaced even as the hot broth and tea warmed his insides.  “I’m on my second year in a dorm and can’t _wait_ until next year when I can live off-campus.”

Chris gave a sympathetic groan at the idea of dorm-living.

It might be nice to see all the male athletes stripped down at times but other than that having to live with a bunch of smelly, messy, noisy college boys wasn’t appealing in the slightest to the spoiled Swiss skater.

“Well,” Chris waved all that mess away with a breezy flick of his wrist.  “At least whatever your coach and team in the States are doing is working better for you.”  He tilted his head and shot a wink at the cute younger skater.  “In the end that’s all that matters, yes?”

Yuuri gave him a little smile and held out his teacup, tapping it to Chris’s own in wordless agreement.

Then as their mains were delivered: steamed vegetables and a whole (if small) fish in broth with rice, Chris hopped to another subject once more, the pair trading tidbits of news and gossip over the flavorful if light meal.

Of course, Chris _had_ to snap a selfie with his favorite Japanese skater, otherwise he wouldn’t be Chris but at least he’d kept his hands to himself while wrapping an arm around Yuuri’s shoulders and pulling him in close to get both of them in the shot with the name of the eatery behind them gleaming neon in the darkening night.

It wasn’t a bad picture of them by any means.

And if the thousands of hits it got by the time Yuuri returned home from Japan – Celestino having him on social media blackout during competitions after a bit of trial-and-error – were any sign their fans agreed.

…

Yuuri’s _Swan Lake_ with no quads and clean triples except for a very minor error on his triple salchow put him in solid fifth out of two dozen Senior skaters at the end of the short programs, which had his stomach roiling the next night after practice as he tried to get some sleep before the Free Skate the following day.

His Free Skate was to Stravinsky’s Firebird, _Infernal Dance_ in particular, and while still a routine with heavy ballet influences was night and day to _Swan Lake_ from the ornate bright red with oranges and yellow flame-motif of his costuming to the pacing and drama of the music which underwent a lot of pacing changes and challenges over the course of approximately four minutes.

Sighing, he turned over and checked the time on the glowing red numerals of the alarm clock before rising and moving to the bathroom and his sleep aid.

No amount of stamina was going to help him tomorrow if he didn’t sleep, a reality that had taken more than one session at Dr. James’s office for him to accept the prescription for the sleeping medication, Yuuri having a bigger problem for whatever reason agreeing to use “as-needed” medicines than everyday routine ones like his anti-depressant.

You’d think it would be the other way around but one thing Yuuri had come to accept about himself was that it was okay if the way he thought was different than how those around him thought or how he assumed he should think.

Settling back under the covers and closing his eyes, he did a few breathing exercises while he waited out the minutes until the medicine would activate in his system and lull him off to sleep.

…

The time difference between St. Petersburg and Tokyo meant that Viktor was in practice during the airing of the NHK Trophy’s events for his division.

That his coach was Yakov Feltsman meant that Viktor had to sneak away if he wanted to watch them live anyway.

Which was why he was huddled in one of the practice studios at the skating complex that they used for practice or blocking choreography with his phone in his hands and earbuds in watching the ISU broadcast of the Grand Prix qualifier.

If Yakov found him he’d try and play it off as competitor research which was a trait of Viktor’s his coach actually approved of though he knew it wouldn’t get him out of trouble.  Yakov knew well enough that he could just _wait_ and watch the playback later.  For an old man his coach was at times remarkably tech-savvy.

Otherwise they would’ve just played the event in the lunch room and rearranged the skaters’ practices so they could view it live.

It wasn’t like Yakov _didn’t_ know what he would be up to by being off the ice right now.

It was whether the old man could _find_ him before he saw what he was watching for that was the question.

His friend Chris was skating at the NHK which the Swiss skater’s Instagram, Twitter, and Facebook would tell him even if he didn’t already know since Chris had been blasting posts of Tokyo including his friend – and Viktor’s newest skating obsession – Yuuri Katsuki who was participating in his only international-level competition for that year at the NHK, likely due to insistence from the JSF since everything else he was doing that year for his Senior debut were all minor events or his Nationals that he’d easily qualified for and were set for next month.

Chris was ranked third and Yuuri fifth coming out of the Short Programs – Viktor was _still_ in awe of Yuuri’s musicality in his _Swan Lake_ performance but hadn’t been able to find a good recording of his Free Skate much to his frustration, everything grainy and pixelated – forcing him to wait for the end of the event and the last and next-to-last groups of skaters to watch Katsuki and his friend skate.

Viktor watched, eyes rapt on his screen as the clearers picked up the flowers and gifts tossed onto the ice for the sixth-ranked skater who was first after their free skate but was anticipated to maybe finish fifth after the rest of the programs were completed.

And then found himself glad he’d used earbuds as the _roar_ of the crowd in Tokyo when their young native skater glided out onto the ice in a brilliant red skating outfit would’ve given away his hiding spot in a split-second.

Katsuki smiled and waved as he circled the ice, his home country fans greeting him like a conquering hero – a situation Viktor found himself in every time he was placed at Rostelecom – then moved to center ice and took his opening position, Viktor sitting up and forward as he stared at the tiny screen on his phone.

He already knew he was going to have to rewatch it on a larger screen like his computer when he got home before the music even started.

Then Katsuki twirled and spun into his opening sequence and Viktor thought of little else but a flawless triple axel and a lay-back Ina Bauer that made him question whether Katsuki even had a _spine_ to go with his obvious dance training.

He muttered to himself as he rose, not even needing to finish watching the rest of the event to know that Katsuki would be finishing _at least_ in the top five at the NHK Trophy given his performance scores, maintaining that there was a skater he was _excited_ to skate against now that Stephané Lambiel had retired and he wasn’t scheduled to share ice with him this season.

 _And_ that since Katsuki hadn’t yet finished top-three (barring a meltdown from some of the more experienced skaters) he wouldn’t get to see what his Senior-level exhibition skates looked like until the Japanese Nationals at the absolute soonest.

…

“I need to add a quad.”  Yuuri all-but-sighed up at Celestino as he watched the NHK Exhibition from the competitor seating.

“Fourth place in your first international competition of this caliber is a fantastic finish, Yuuri.”  Celestino told him, holding in any sign of his incredulity over Yuuri’s competitiveness and work ethic.  “Especially without a quad in your repertoire.”

“Maybe.”  Yuuri pursed his lips, then let himself smile and clap as Chris skated out onto the ice for the final exhibition that went hand-in-hand with a first-place finish.  “But I still need to add a quad if the JSF is going to send me to Worlds.”

And with a fourth-finish at the NHK Trophy unless he completely bombed at Nationals – something to worry to death now, thanks anxiety – being sent to Worlds this season was an actual possibility.

Not one he was excited for, but a possibility nonetheless.

Celestino sighed, nodding.  After more than a year as Yuuri’s coach he knew that _tone_ all too well.  Katsuki was going to train a quad whether he liked it or not.  Better he do it in the safety of Celestino’s supervision than sneaking off or trying to train it during his private rink time.

He was a smart kid but that competitiveness Celestino liked to use to convince him to take care of himself could make him take stupid risks sometimes.

“Your toe jumps are the most consistent.”  Celestino said, thinking.  “We’ll start working harder to clean up your quad toe loop when we get back to Detroit.  Work on replacing your triple salchow in your Free Skate with it.”

“Okay, Coach.”  Yuuri smiled, agreeable as could be now that he’d gotten his way.  “Whatever you think is best.”

Celestino really did roll his eyes this time.

As if he hadn’t been coaching skaters – and Yuuri in particular – long enough to see right through _that_ bit of ego-pandering.

…

_January 2012_

Yuuri stared down at the gold medal glinting up at him as the national anthem played overhead.

First.

He’d taken first place at Nationals – and as Celestino was certain to never let him forget – without a quad yet integrated into either of his programs.

Oh boy.

He didn’t know which was going to be worse: the fans losing their minds over his win or Celestino’s _I-told-you-so_ ’s.

…

 _“How did you handle the press conference, Yuuri?”_   The tinny voice of Dr. James came through his phone’s earpiece as Yuuri laid in bed that night.  They had one more day at All-Japan thanks to the exhibition and banquet the JSF threw every year which with his win meant press conferences and chatting with sponsors in addition to performing his exhibition for the first time this season as most of the smaller competitions didn’t bother with an exhibition skate.

He’d been practicing one, just in case or so Celestino said.

But being an exhibition it was more a chance to have fun on the ice than it was anything, maybe show off a little bit, relax and just _skate_ for a bit.

That he’d dedicated his season to his family, to the point of choreographing his exhibition to one of his mother’s favorite songs, just made it that much sweeter that they’d been able to close the _onsen_ and come watch his competition which was in – relatively close by – Fukuoka this year instead of Tokyo, Yokohama, or Osaka.

 _“It wasn’t that bad, I guess.”_ Yuuri admitted, nibbling away at his lower lip since she wasn’t there to see and scold him for the nervous tic instead of using his words or one of his non-self-harming countermeasures.  _“Practicing helped.”_

One good thing about the modern era was that it wasn’t hard to have a rough idea of what kinds of questions were often asked at press conferences or public question-and-answer events.

Juniors didn’t have to deal with it as much, shielded by their age from a lot of the media exposure for the most part.

Seniors however were very much public property when it came to the press and fans alike.

No matter how much – or in the case of a skater like Yuuri how _little_ – the Seniors liked the attention it was always around when they were at events and in the case of some skaters like Viktor Nikiforov could even follow them in private depending on what was going on in the skating world at any given moment.

 _“They seemed to like that I dedicated my season to my family.”_ He added after a moment’s thought.  _“But some were asking questions about me and Chris that I wasn’t really prepared for.”_

 _“You mean your friendship with Christophe Giacometti.”_ Dr. James clarified.  _“What questions took you off-guard?”_

Yuuri squirmed, still deeply embarrassed by the thing implied by the foreign reporter.

_“Whether Chris and I are – or were, or whatever – involved romantically.”_

_“What did you say?”_

_“That we’re friends.”_ Yuuri let out a gusty breath, nearly a sigh, of frustration.  _“I don’t think they believed me though.  I don’t understand how they think it’s any of their business either way.”_

 _“How does that make you feel?”_   Dr. James pressed.  _“Public interest in your private affairs, particularly of this sort?”_

_“Embarrassed.”_

_“Anything else?”_

_“Um…”_

And on they continued to talk through the situation, even with an ocean in between Yuuri and his doctor.

…

“That’s a little cutesy for a Senior, isn’t it?”  Georgi Popovich, one of Viktor’s rink-mates, critiqued the exhibition skate Viktor was watching as they got ready for their exhibition skate at the Russian Nationals.  With the time difference, the Japanese Nationals had already completed their exhibition and likely their banquet before the Men’s Seniors in Russia took the ice for their own exhibition as the two competitions were often scheduled on the same weekend in January.

Viktor simply hissed and batted the silver-medalist away.

Granted the song was a remake of an old one “I Can’t Help Myself” but the outfit of cuffed jeans, a bright blue t-shirt, yellow belt, and blue-and-yellow rolled-cuff jacket that sparkled under the stadium lights in Japan wasn’t _cutesy_ , even if the skater who was wearing it _was_ quite cute and adorable as far as Viktor was concerned.

He’d been right after all.

Watching Katsuki in competition was beautiful but watching him skate an exhibition and obviously work more than one style of dance and artistic flare into the high-beat music was another thing again without the worry and concern over fitting in a certain amount of jumps and required components.

It was a short routine, just a little longer than a short program would be, but entertaining as could be.

And if the cheers of the home crowd were any sign, they agreed.

Then at nearly the end of the song, Katsuki went into a set-up sequence Viktor recognized and leapt into the air turning once, twice, thrice, four full rotations and landing clean.

Georgi still watching over Viktor’s shoulder gasped as Katsuki finished his routine and bowed to the crowd.

“He…just landed a quad toe loop.”  The other Senior skater who’d be joining Viktor at Europeans and Worlds gulped.

“He did.”  Viktor closed out of the live stream, tapping one finger to his lips in thought.  “The first I’ve seen him do.”

Since he wasn’t about to admit to following Katsuki’s YouTube account.

Nope.  No way in hell.  It would get around the rink and he’d never hear the end of it.

“He’s only going to get better, isn’t he?”  Georgi groaned at the thought.  As if Viktor “Russia’s Ice Prince” Nikiforov wasn’t enough now they had Giacometti and Katsuki making a successful jump to Seniors.  The universe hated him.

“From everything I’ve seen.”  Viktor pursed his lips, the corners curling a bit in a smile he couldn’t quite hold back.  “ _Yes_.”

“Goddamnit.”

“GEORGI!  LANGUAGE!”  Yakov bellowed from across the room where he was heckling a few of the younger skaters into proper meal choices.

…

 


	5. Chapter 5

** Culture Shock **

_Author’s Note: So I went back and fiddled a bit with a few things in the other chapters.  Nothing major, I simply forgot that Yuuri would’ve competed in the Junior Olympics right before leaving Japan to train under Celestino so I added that bit._

_If you don’t want to do a re-read, I put him at a Bronze finish to go with his Bronze Junior Worlds placement for that same year/season._

**Chapter Five: Rink Mates Good and Bad**

_March 2012; ISU World Championships; Oslo, Norway_

The worst thing about qualifying for Worlds in Yuuri’s opinion – besides the flight to Norway and the pressure he’d been under the last three months as he prepped for the competition – was that it came two weeks before his Winter Quarter finals.

Last year had been the same so he wasn’t _completely_ shocked by it, but he’d still rather be back in Detroit studying for his finals than hopping a transatlantic flight and having to get notes emailed to him from his professors.

That he hadn’t _wanted_ to compete at Worlds this year hadn’t helped his disgruntlement over the situation but it was what it was.

At least between Dr. James and Celestino-sensei they’d managed to convince the JSF not to send him to the Four Continents last month, sending the other medalists and the fourth-place skater instead for the three slots Japan was allowed.

That the highest the other guys had placed had been nineteenth hadn’t thrilled the JSF and killed any hope Yuuri had had of squirming out of being the main Japanese representative in Oslo had been a let down but not a total surprise.  Like many other countries, Japan was going through the post-Olympics slump.  Their top older skaters retiring and their bright up-and-comers not yet at the peaks of their careers, the first season or two after an Olympic season tended to have issues – at times – depending on the interest and depth of professional figure skaters in a given region or country.

Some countries didn’t tend to have the issue with a slump due to lack of public interest in the sport like Russia, where others only have a great prospect for professional skating once in a blue moon.

It all depended on various variables, and Japan was a country that while there often _was_ interest and a pool of candidates to raise up to the international level of competition, it wasn’t of the same depth of talented and/or hardworking skaters as the heavy-hitter countries for winter sports like those of northern Europe and Russia.

All of which combined to put pressure on Yuuri to spark interest in young people in his country to take up his beloved sport, as well as upholding the country’s pride and honor through his performances.

It was…a lot to say the least.

And it would be for _anyone_ no matter what anyone says, let alone a skater like him who struggled with anxiety and depression.

Yuuri had spent quite a bit of time when he wasn’t at class or practice talking with Dr. James since his first-place finish at All-Japan dealing with all of the pressure – both real and actualized by his own personal issues – that came with being the top skater of a country, especially one with such a heavy cultural emphasis on upholding honor and ethnic pride on the international level.

Though he guessed while representing his country on the international stage was stressful – and inconvenient when it cut into his time to review for his finals – it also made him feel good.

Feel _proud_.

He, Katsuki Yuuri from no-where Hasetsu, was currently the premier male singles figure skater for his homeland.

Celestino from the little he’d told him was also going to use the week in Norway to scout a couple of Juniors he was thinking about inviting to Detroit, so there was that.  Yuuri’s place at the competition allowed his coach – who’d been nothing short of supportive for all that they butted heads sometimes – to scout new students on the JSF’s dime instead of his own wallet.  Considering that if it weren’t for Celestino-sensei Yuuri honestly didn’t think he would’ve made Gold at Nationals until later in his Senior career if ever it was the least he could do for the other man.

Chris had been blowing up his phone with texts ever since it’d been confirmed that they both were headed for Worlds, each plan for sightseeing or meals or playing hooky from their coaches more outlandish than the next.

The Swiss skater’s energetic flamboyance was tiring at times for the more-reserved Yuuri, but he was glad he’d reconnected with the older skater at the NHK Trophy nonetheless since prior to that event they hadn’t seen each other or communicated other than the odd text or Tweet or Instagram picture tagging since they’d competed against each other at the Junior Olympics, Chris skipping the Junior World Championships two years ago as his Gold at the Junior Olympics made it clear he would make the jump to Seniors.

Thankfully for his jetlag, Yuuri managed to make it up to his room without being stopped by anyone though the press corps camped outside the hotel lobby had given it a shot only to be shooed away by Celestino.

The bed beckoned him with siren song after spending _literally_ half a day on an airplane but between the time difference _and spending twelve hours on an airplane_ , Yuuri needed to salvage something from the day.

So: to the hotel gym for a run it was.

At least a couple of miles on a treadmill and some yoga would chew up enough time to get him to dinner and after that an early night wouldn’t _completely_ mess with his schedule.

Nevertheless, he knew he’d be battling jetlag for at least a couple of days as he adjusted.

Some people managed transatlantic travel without jetlag.

Katsuki Yuuri _was not_ one of them.

He was luckier than some who wouldn’t arrive until sometime Monday, since Celestino’s “scouting” portion of the trip made getting there before the Juniors left – those that didn’t share coaches with seniors competing the next week or didn’t have to be back home for whatever reason and stayed to watch the senior world championships – giving him between half a day to a full day more to recover from jetlag than most of the other competitors.

_Most_ , because every year there was the Russian contingent who as part of the vaunted “Russian System” traveled together as a group – at least those under Yakov Feltsman – since even the youngest Junior took classes online instead of attending a physical school and didn’t have to worry about things like missing classes.  Anyone who followed Viktor Nikiforov *coughcoughYuuri* on his social networking accounts always saw spammed pictures and posts about whatever sightseeing he managed when not on the ice while the younger skaters were wrapped up in sponsor meetings or practice.  All of Yakov’s seniors were present to cheer on and support their junior counterparts and vice versa for the juniors the following week for the seniors.

It was an interesting system but would never work for anyone not as well-funded – now at least – and with the reputation of churning out champions as Feltsman.

The sheer _expense_ of billeting all of his skaters competing at every European or World Championship for just over two weeks made Yuuri want to break out in hives as the other competitions either ran the Junior and Senior competitions concurrently like the Grand Prix Final _or_ they took place at completely different times where uprooting part of their skating program to a foreign locale for two weeks wasn’t feasible.

Then again, most coaches didn’t manage to oversee as many champions or high-level competitors at the same time as Feltsman either so…there was that.

When you had an entire sports complex in St. Petersburg, half a dozen assistant coaches, and other staff to watch over the novices and non-competing skaters while you were gone, he supposed moving your competitive skaters into a hotel for a couple weeks wasn’t that big of a deal even if it was still a bit of an endeavor.

…

Yuuri woke up the next morning with a groggy head and gritty eyes, gladder than ever that he had an extra few hours than normal to recover from the flight to Norway before the competition as he got an update from his Insta that flashed a picture of Chris – looking as fabulous as ever – at the airport in Geneva getting ready to board his flight.  His flirty friend would be after him to socialize as sure as sunrise once he arrived.  Thankfully even _Chris_ wouldn’t really want to explore Oslo the first night he arrived, buying Yuuri a bit of time and not forcing him to fob one of his only skating friends off since Celestino expected him to go to dinner that night with the main junior skater he was thinking about luring to Detroit with scholarships and coaching.

Which…honestly was a good thing.

Thanks to their pictures together on their Instagram accounts, friendliness at the NHK Trophy, and the Sports Illustrated article that featured a handful of “up-and-coming” skaters as well as a couple coaches and a representative from the ISU on “The Future of Figure Skating” that he and Chris were featured in as the “newest and most successful additions to the Senior circuit in _years_ ” there was even more media attention on the World Championships than normal since the SI issue featuring the article – complete with lots of pictures, ugh – only dropped a week ago for maximum impact right before the end of the season.

They’d had all the skaters, which included a pair of Junior female skaters named Sara and Mila as well as a cocky boy Yuuri remembered from his first summer under Celestino that had left the Detroit program rather abruptly named JJ, wear their most recent gold medals and slapped them on the front cover, drawing a _lot_ of attention.

Especially since they’d stuck him and Chris with their arms crossed and leaning back to back but angled towards the camera to show their national title golds front-and-center with the girls flanking them and JJ up on a platform kneeling over them – smirking, naturally, since Yuuri was pretty sure the other boy didn’t _know_ how to make his face make any other expression besides sneering or smirking.

Which was an unkind thought…but still rather true.

The pictures from inside the SI issue had only fanned the flames of the rumors that he and Chris were involved somehow, with both of them asked about the “nature of their relationship,” as no one apparently wanted to believe either of them when they said that they were simply good friends who’d known each other for years because of competing on the Junior circuit.

_Why_ it was so hard to believe that two gay – or bi, Yuuri wasn’t quite certain if he liked both since the only girl he’d ever crushed on was Yuuko-chan but _knew_ he liked guys – guys could be just friends he didn’t understand.

But then reporters would be reporters and if he knew anything by now of following Viktor Nikiforov it was that they _loved_ to stir up drama and controversy if the athletes weren’t willing to supply their own.

Yuuri went to practice via the hotel shuttle to the rink and traded Twitter snark with Chris since his friend landed by the time he was finished at practice, then headed back to the hotel to rest and avoid reporters until it was time to meet Celestino for dinner with his prospect.

Or at least that _was_ the plan.

A plan that quickly went off the rails as no matter that Celestino was playing buffer for the press corps at the stadium, one reporter managed to throw out a question that for once Yuuri actually _wanted_ to answer.

_“_ Yuuri!  Could you clarify what you meant in your _Sports Illustrated_ interview by dismissing yourself as a prodigy of artistic figure skating?!”

Yuuri stopped in his tracks and turned towards the reporter who from the credentials he spotted was from one of the American media channels that had affiliates all over the world.

Seeing that she had his attention, the reporter continued before angling her microphone towards Yuuri and the others calmed – at least a little – to hear his answer.

“For a skater who has been able to claim Senior-level performance component scores and levels since your second year in the Junior division, the dismissal of your talent seems out of place.”

“That’s because I’m not a prodigy.”  Yuuri answered after taking a moment to usher his thoughts into a straight – and coherent – answer before speaking.  “I’m not dismissing what others think about my abilities or how the judges and skating officials have scored and evaluated my PCS, but realistically I’m not a prodigy.”

“Can you clarify that?”  The reporter asked again, as his answer was nearly identical to the one he gave _Sports Illustrated_ , though none of her frustration showed in her face or voice, coming off simply as intent interest.

“In my opinion, a prodigy is someone who has both talent and drive to excel from a young age.”  He replied, frowning lightly.  “Since I didn’t have interest in skating competitively until I was twelve, and certainly don’t have the raw talent of someone like Viktor Nikiforov or Christophe Giacometti, calling me a _prodigy_ of figure skating isn’t correct.”

Celestino held in a groan and face-palm, already knowing that his skater’s impromptu interview was going to by splattered all over skating news by that night but knew pulling him away before he was done would only feed the media beast with speculation that he disagreed with Yuuri’s self-assessment.

Which he didn’t, not entirely.

He would say that Yuuri had plenty of raw talent when it came to skating – Yuuri simply refused to believe it himself even with all the progress he’d made over the last couple years.

“Then to what to you ascribe your successful, record-breaking Junior career and your outstanding Senior debut?”  Another reporter butted in, another microphone shoved in his face.

“Hard work and a lot of practice.”  Yuuri gave a practiced little chuckle, then waved away further questions and allowed Celestino to direct him over to the waiting shuttle.  “Have a good day.”

…

_“Aww, Yuuri.”_   Chris’s cooing voice came through the external speaker of Yuuri’s phone as he got ready for dinner at the hotel restaurant with Celestino and the prospect – from Thailand he thought – and the junior skater’s current coach plus his parents.  “ _You think I have more raw talent than you?”_   Chris clucked his tongue in pleasure-tinged disapproval.  Always so modest, his little Japanese darling.  “ _I don’t know whether to blush or scold you for being far too humble.”_

“Since I don’t think you know _how_ to blush.”  Yuuri shot back drily as he shrugged into a soft golf polo sent to him as part of his newest sponsorship, one of three of those he’d agreed to after the newest round of offers he’d received after his gold medal at Nationals, in a bright blue that matched his glasses frames. 

Then he had to finger-comb his hair back down as it flew every-which-way once his head popped out the top of his shirt.  Jeans were fine for a simple meet-and-greet that wasn’t about him anyway along with the sneakers also sent by Puma, and his Citizen – another sponsor gift – watch on his wrists.  Sponsorships were weird.  He was happy he had a coach that was used to wading through all of that because it had been one of the biggest headaches for Yuuri’s family to try and deal with since his last coach hadn’t been nearly as versed in that aspect of having a professional-level skater.  All of them paid him for a certain amount of exposure as his sponsor varying from the contract with Mizuno – his longest-running and highest-paying sponsorship – that had him in Mizuno training gear from head to ankle (and toe if one included his socks) in any “public” training event like the practices at events or his YouTube uploads; to smaller sponsorships like his deal with Citizen that made it so anytime he was wearing a watch it was a Citizen model on his wrist, supplied by the company though they gave him an assortment to choose from.

Some sponsors like Puma also provided extras, gifts like his soft golf polo, that he wasn’t contractually obligated to wear or show off.

Some sponsors simply had him pose or model in ads.

Other got first rights to having him “act” in commercials during the off-season or for him modeling in advertisements but had to pay an extra fee.

Needless to say: it was a mess.

A mess that paid well and kept him from stressing out this year since he wasn’t in as many international events and bringing home international gold-medal money, but still a mess he was glad Celestino handled for him along with the financial manager that counseled all of the professional skaters who skated under the JSF banner with minimal input from himself.

Honestly, he thought skaters who did all of that for themselves were _crazy_.

“Feel free to scold away, Celestino and Minako-sensei already have.”

Especially after the SI issue was made public and they found out that Yuuri – being the (now former as of two days ago) Junior World Champion and having a successful Senior debut – was featured in the article along with Chris with the rest of the skaters and the rep from the ISU only having a paragraph or two.

Yuuri had thought the article was going to be more balanced than that but he supposed with the current attention both his and Chris’s moves to Seniors were getting in the media and Celestino being his coach and Mr. Feltsman being _Mr. Feltsman_ it made some sense.

Though he dreaded the next time he ran into JJ Leroy.

The cocky younger skater was going to be _epically pissed off_ if his not-very-gracious comments in social media the last week were any sign despite the boy taking a silver at Junior Worlds behind a relative unknown named Otabek Altin who trained under Coach Feltsman with the Thai boy Celestino wanted to woo to Detroit taking bronze.

From the little he knew about JJ, he’d always been easy to rile, especially when someone else was in the spotlight.

He hadn’t been the best rink mate, to say the least, and Yuuri had been relieved when his parents decided to train him themselves in their home of Toronto.

_“Well, that just takes the fun out of it, darling.”_   Chris’s pout came through the phone loud and clear.  _“Are you willing to risk the media gauntlet to do dinner tomorrow?”_

“Should be fine.”  Yuuri allowed, knowing that it wasn’t too close to competition so Celestino should be okay with him going out as long as he kept to his event-week curfew.

_“I might bring another friend or two along, we rarely all get to compete at the same place.”_ Chris continued with a mischievous look in his eyes that if they were in the same room he knew would send off all sorts of red flags with his little darling of a friend.

“Sure _,”_ Yuuri shrugged.  _“_ Text me the time and place once you have it figured out.”

_“Will do, darling.  Have fun with your meet-and-greet.”_

“Later, Chris.”

“ _Mmm, bonne nuit.”_

…

Yuuri ran his eyes over the tables in the restaurant, spotting the long ponytail of his coach after a moment where Celestino was seated across the room along with the young Junior World bronze medalist and his coach and who Yuuri thought was his mom from the little he could see.

Celestino looked up from his discussion with the mom and a happily chattering junior skater and waved Yuuri over, Yuuri picking up the tail-end of his introduction as he moved to the empty seat at the round table.

“…and this is Yuuri Katsuki from Japan, my only Senior male at the moment taking part in the partnership between the Detroit Skate Club and Wayne State University though other coaches out of the Club also have skaters involved in similar arrangements with the University and local/online schools.”

“Hi!”  Phichit Chulanont – at least Yuuri _thought_ that was his name, at least 90% certain of it – popped up and bounced, yes, _bounced_ over to Yuuri.  “Yuuri!  I’m Phichit, excited to meet you!  Selfie!”

He threw an arm around Yuuri and snapped off a quick selfie with the Senior skater while Yuuri was still blinking over the effusive greeting and parsing out Phichit’s words through the younger boy’s rather thick accent.

“Nice to meet you, Phichit-kun.”  Yuuri gave a soft half-smile at the younger boy, holding in a sigh and not bothering to protest the selfie. 

Yuuri was used to it from Chris after all and the junior’s enthusiasm was kinda endearing though he could see it getting exhausting after awhile if he was like that all the time and not just excited over his placement at the competition and the opportunity being offered by Celestino.  He already knew that if the boy’s quick-on-the-draw selfie skills were any sign the picture was likely uploaded to multiple SNS with the speed of Phichit’s fingers on his phone screen.  At least he’d put in some thought to his outfit and hair before coming down thanks to all the media attention lately and wasn’t all sweaty and frumpy from his earlier practice and workout.

More than one pic of him looking less-than-his-best had made it online during his skating career thanks to Yuuko-chan and Nishigori-san, let alone his rink mates in Detroit.

Nishigori-san in particular was fond of posting pictures and short videos of him eating ice after a failed jump.

What kind of pictures JJ was known to take and post of their rink mates didn’t even need to be thought about, though at least none of them were risqué or _too_ humiliating all things considered since the younger skater never held back with his sharp-edged insults or ego-deflating jabs towards the other skaters who practiced in his general vicinity.

Which was too bad.

JJ wouldn’t be that bad of a guy if he wasn’t such an aggressive little self-aggrandizer all the time who felt the need to pump himself up by tearing others down.

Immature.

Though even so, Yuuri wasn’t certain that JJ would ever grow out of the behavior with his parents spoiling him all the time like they had in Detroit before moving him back to Toronto.

“Yuuri moved to Detroit after finishing high school.”  Celestino informed the others – more the adults since Phichit was focused on locking Yuuri into conversation that had his skater looking just a _bit_ wild-eyed at the spate of machine-gunned questions.  “A bit of a different situation than it would be for Phichit since he’s younger than Yuuri was, but with an online option he could still complete high school with some help from tutors.”

“What about where he’d live?”  Phichit’s mother asked, her English a bit more broken than her son’s but with a bit of a lighter accent.  “He can’t live alone at sixteen and if he’s not enrolled at the college he couldn’t live in the dorms.”

“As I understand,” the Thai coach added.  “There aren’t dedicated dorms for the skate club in Detroit.”

“No, there aren’t.”  Celestino nodded easily enough.  “There’s two options that I can see.  As I would be made his temporary guardian, Phichit could live with me at my house _or_ with an older skater from the club who lives off-campus or doesn’t attend University.”

Yuuri turned his head at that, suddenly getting an idea of why he was included in Celestino’s scouting endeavors beyond the obvious, taking a break from answering Phichit’s questions about himself with a sprinkling about skating in general and the Club in particular, the younger boy locking on the topic under discussion by the adults with laser-like focus himself.

Phichit wrinkled his nose at the idea of living with his _coach_.

As if he wouldn’t be spending enough time with the Italian man at the rink and skate club since he would be – in theory – doing his school work at the skate club under supervision from what his coach and parents had told him about how things worked when skate clubs took on younger skaters whose parents couldn’t follow them for whatever reason.

“Coach?”  Yuuri asked, tilting his head a bit in question and arching a brow.

As far as he knew…he was the only skater under Celestino who didn’t already have a roommate who wouldn’t be living on campus next year.

He could _maybe_ see one of the other older skaters from the club living with the sixteen-year-old…but he rather doubted Celestino _or_ their own coach being easy with the arrangement.

“If Phichit and you were both okay with the idea.”  Celestino told him – them both really.  “I know you were going to start looking for an apartment off-campus after finals to move-in in June and Phichit, if he decides to join our program, would arrive in either late June or early July.”

The younger men traded a considering look.

There was a decent measure of responsibility that Celestino would be trusting them _both_ with: Phichit not to do anything that would get himself or the club in trouble and Yuuri with keeping an eye on the younger skater and helping him acclimate to living in Detroit.

“I was planning on moving Vicchan to Detroit.”  Yuuri admitted with a soft sigh, dropping his eyes to the salad with smoked salmon that had been delivered while Phichit hit him with his barrage of questions.  “Bringing him back with me between the end of classes for the year and the ramp-up to next season.”

He was even going to skip his annual trip home during Spring Break to fit in a quicker trip after the end of the Spring quarter instead.

Phichit perked up at that.

“Your dog?”  He asked eagerly.  An avid follower of most of the bigger name skaters’ SNS, he’d seen pictures on the older skater’s Insta and Facebook of Yuuri cuddling and playing with a dog whenever he visited his home in Japan.  “He’s sooo cute!”

Yuuri sent a baffled and bemused glance over at the younger skater.  “Uh, okay?”  He flicked a look over at his watchful coach.  “If you do end up signing with Celestino-sensei then I would be willing to try it out I guess.”  He shifted a bit uncomfortable with all the locked-on gazes from the other around the table.  “I’ve never had a roommate.”  He warned the younger skater, turning back to the bright-eyed bronze medalist.  “I might be really bad at it.”

“Can I have my hamsters?”  Phichit asked the only pertinent question as far as he was concerned.  “If you’re getting a pet-friendly place anyway.”

“I guess?”  Yuuri shot a baffled glance – again – at his coach.  That was a _lot_ of energy to be around all the time.  Though he supposed he didn’t really spend a ton of time at his dorm…which would change with bringing Vicchan from Japan…but he could always hide in his room when Phichit was too much.

“Excellent.”  Celestino beamed.  He loved when a plan came together.  And maybe with a roommate like the personable Phichit, Yuuri might come out of his introverted shell more in public and with his fans…  “What do you think, then Phichit?”  Celestino leaned forward towards the young skater as the meeting was more of a formality than anything, most of the finer details already worked out before they’d ever arrived in Oslo.  “Would you like to come and join our program in Detroit?”

“Yeah!”  Phichit bounced in place, then the cell phone was up and snapping pictures again as he threw himself sideways to include Yuuri.  “Celebratory selfie!”

Yuuri sighed, already conceding to there being a _lot_ more pictures being tagged of him than ever before.

At least Phichit had a… _wholesome_ sort of energy.

He should be a good – if maybe exhausting at times – rink mate.

As for being roommates…well.

Yuuri suggested a trial period for a reason after all.

They would just have to see how it all turned out come summertime and if nothing else he’d have Vicchan to keep him company.

…

_Author’s Note 2: SNS = social networking sites; in case you’re like me and didn’t immediately know what that acronym stood for…  Yeah it took me longer than I like to think about to figure that one out._


	6. Chapter 6

** Culture Shock **

**Chapter Six: Defying Gravity**

Yuuri walked down the street with a scarf covering the bottom half of his face, Chris at his side hiding – not very well – behind mirrored aviator glasses as they tried to avoid collecting any reporters or fans on the way to dinner the next evening.

They were lucky in that neither of them shared coaches or rinks with skaters who were competing for the Ice Dancing or Women’s Singles Senior titles as both were scheduled for their short programs that evening/night, allowing them to play hooky from the stadium unlike other skaters who stayed to support their fellows.

The next day was Pairs and Men’s, the event organizers stretching the competition out through most of the week to give the skaters a rest day between their short programs and free skates.

Which was nice on one hand but made what was a week at other competitions like Nationals, the GPF and GP qualifiers, or smaller tournaments stretch out into more like ten days.

Europeans and the Four Continents was the same, which for a skater like Yuuri who was in school bit into his time to study or attend classes.

Skaters like Chris who took his university courses online didn’t have to deal with that headache that came with taking in-person/on-campus classes but then they also didn’t really have as easy of a time getting extensions for competitions as Yuuri did so it was a trade-off.

Though both would argue that skaters who either hadn’t pursued higher education or had finished their degrees had it easiest since they didn’t have to worry about classes and finals and deadlines at all.

Lucky bastards.

“Where are we going, Chris?”  Yuuri asked with a _bit_ of exasperation with the other skater as they took yet _another_ turn down a side-street, the Swiss man utterly focused on the directions chirping at him from the phone in his hand.

“Some restaurant that was recommended and too out of the way for – hopefully – fans and reporters to stalk us to.”  Chris answered absently, eyes fixed on the tiny map and the dot delineating their current location.  “It should be…”  He looked up and spotted a familiar – and iconic – short mane of platinum-silver-blond hair down the street.  “Just there, c’mon.”

Before Chris could rush off to greet their dinner companions, Yuuri’s hand lashed out and clamped down on his arm, his normally-sweet friend glaring between that spot of silver and Chris’s bright green eyes.

“Christophe Giacometti.”  Yuuri hissed up at him, eyes narrowed, panic building just under the surface.  “ _Did you invite Viktor Nikiforov?!”_

How didn’t he anticipate this?  He thought, mind rushing here-and-there.  He _knew_ Chris had made friends with the Russian skater.  Pictures of them together were on both skaters’ Instagrams.  He _knew that_.  It just…  It just never connected that Chris + Viktor + Meal-with-Friends = _Yuuri having dinner with Viktor Nikiforov_.

“Yuuri, Yuuri, Yuuri.”  Chris tsked teasingly as he tossed his arm around the younger – if only by a year – skater’s shoulders and towed him along, not _about_ to miss the meeting of the Ultimate Viktor Fanboi™ Yuuri Katsuki and the New-but-Upcoming Yuuri Fanboi™ Viktor Nikiforov.  It had, after all, taken him the better part of the last few months to scheme a way to toss the two idiots into each other’s paths and it all hinged on Yuuri being assigned to Worlds.

Which he was, thank the skating gods.

If Chris had to listen to _anymore_ gushing rants from either skater about the other he was going to _drown_ in fluff, sugar, and glitter.

“Would I do that to you, you poor _thirsty_ ,” his drawl was nothing short of salacious.  “Fanboi?”

“If it promised to be entertaining?”  Yuuri grumbled as he dragged his feet before finding something resembling a backbone and straightening up.  He would _never_ forgive himself if Viktor’s first impression of him was being pulled and pushed along by _Chris_.  No.  Just.  No.  “ _Yes_.  In a damn heartbeat.”

“Awww.”  Chris cooed obnoxiously – though under his breath as Viktor turned and beamed one of his trademark heart-shaped smiles their way.  He would be willing to bet that only someone who knew the other skater personally would note the slight widening in those icy blue eyes when Viktor caught sight of their fourth for dinner, the other man having brought his rink mate Georgi along with him as the only other Senior on his team competing at Worlds this year.  Heh.  Yuuri was right about one thing: this promised to be _pure_ entertainment.  “You know me so well.”

“ _Asshole_.”  Yuuri muttered under his breath in Japanese.

“I know what that means, my sour little muffin.”  Chris chirped before letting loose of his friend as they met up with the other pair waiting for them in the cool of the Norwegian evening.  “Vitya!  Georgi!  Hello, darlings!”

Viktor and Georgi chuckled at the flamboyant skater as Chris beamed at them and greeted them with cheek-kisses and hugs, both having gotten _more_ than familiar with his, well, _familiarity_ with skaters he actually liked instead of just tolerated.

“I don’t believe we’ve met.”  Viktor recovered something resembling his normal social calm after the surprise inclusion of the skater he’d been following – and wanting to skate against – most of the season.  That the other man was fucking _adorable_ didn’t help either.  “Viktor Nikiforov, lovely to meet you.”

“Yuuri Katsuki.”  Yuuri fought a blush from heating his face with only moderate success though hopefully the Russians would dismiss it as from the cool breeze blowing through the street and not coming face-to-face with his all-time favorite skater and idol (and crush.)  Reaching out he accepted Viktor’s – _Viktor’s_ – hand praying that it wasn’t damp with either excitement or panic, shaking it slowly and then letting go to take the one offered by who he recognized, because of course he did it was related to _Viktor_ , rink mate Georgi if Chris’s greeting didn’t already enlighten him.  “P-pleasure.”

“Georgi Popovich.”  At just a year younger than Viktor – and several older than the other two skaters – he had a decent idea of what Chris was after with his little scene being not _nearly_ as oblivious as Viktor could be at times.  Though he swore at least half the time it was an intentional blindness covered by his “airhead” act and not Vitya _actually_ overlooking things that were obvious to everyone around him.  He just didn’t want to deal with whatever it was – or so it seemed to someone who’d known him almost as long as Yakov and longer than anyone else otherwise – so he played idiot.  “Same.”

“ _Marvelous_ ,” Chris purred out, fiendishly delighted at the outcome – thus far – of pranking the crap out of his twitterpated (such an _apt_ Americanism) friends.  “Well, shall we?”  He tilted his head towards the restaurant and led the way, linking arms with Georgi – who gave him a deeply amused glance – and took the lead inside.

Sharing just a _flicker_ of a bashful glance with Viktor, Yuuri gulped silently and darted after his friend, cursing the conniving Swiss bastard all the way as a stunned – but slowly turning amused as he started to get an idea of what Christophe was up to – Viktor followed.

If that _also_ gave the Russian star a most excellent view of Yuuri’s deliciously muscled ass in tight jeans, well, all to the better.

…

“I really like your short program this year, Chris.”  Yuuri told his friend sincerely having watched the sensual – but not overtly sexual – program evolve over the season.

They’d been seated easily with only a slight widening of the eyes of one of the restaurant employees so all four skaters had hope that they might make it through the entire meal without being swarmed by fans or reporters.

Since Viktor and Chris had been banned – genially but nonetheless – by Georgi and Yuuri from posting on SNS until they were gone from the restaurant that _should_ help.

In theory but who knew?

The resourcefulness of fans made even the most dogged paparazzi look weak and mealy-mouthed at times.

Idle chit-chat had prevailed over the table as the new grouping of skaters grew comfortable around each other, especially as Yuuri had never met either Georgi or Viktor in person and vice versa though Christophe knew all of them and was quite good friends with both Yuuri and Viktor.

“Agreed.”  Viktor nodded with a slight smile – firmly shoving down any nerves at being tossed head-first into meeting a skater who he’d been waiting all season to compete against – at the now-blushing Christophe as the waitress brought their light salad appetizers.  “I don’t think anyone – recently or at all – had thought to perform a version of it before.”

The song choice under discussion being an instrumental version of “Ain’t No Sunshine”, which honestly was very different than the bright and often _folksy_ numbers Chris had performed in Juniors and the sexual routines he had used the prior season.

Though Chris hadn’t taken a complete departure from type, his short program was still rather sensual and his free skate as sexual – if not more so – than his routines from his debut season.

“Aww.”  Chris waved their compliments away airily.  “You’re making me blush.”

He steadfastly ignored Yuuri’s muttered: “ _didn’t know that was even possible anymore”_ that had Vitya choking on his ice water.

“How’d you think of it?”  Georgi asked, curious as ever about what other skaters used for inspiration as his own was an open-secret as he tended to skate varying versions of love and relationship-inspired pieces and had since he was a Junior.  Though constantly coming up with new iterations was harder than most gave him credit for in the press.

“My music history class did a segment on classic soul last year.”  Chris shrugged.  He took university classes online.

“Music major, right?”  Georgi checked with a light thoughtful frown, Yuuri and Viktor nodded along with Chris as they were already aware of the Swiss skater’s degree program.  Georgi laughed, shaking his head.  “And Yuuri, you take classes at a college not online?”

“Uh huh.”  Yuuri sighed, slumping a bit as he thought about the looming finals.  “Wayne State.  They’re pretty good about working around my schedule so it works.”

Chris clucked his tongue.  “I still don’t see how you manage that.”  He said bluntly as the Russians watched the ongoing debate between the two younger skaters, feeling much the same as Chris on the subject.

Both of them had completed their state-required educations but in Russia there wasn’t the emphasis on college during the height of their professional skating careers like there was in other countries, especially given that both of them were just starting skating at the crash of the Soviet Union and it took a lot of years afterward for many of the athletic and education programs that they boasted previously to recover.

The thought of juggling a college-level education and a professional skating career left them a bit baffled over how the up-and-coming skaters managed it for all that they – for the most part – all said that their schools were willing to work with them around their professional skating careers.

Yuuri shrugged.  “It was all worked out and contracted before I left Japan.”  He told his friend for probably the dozenth time.  “And my practice requirements made it so I only have to take a couple extra classes to add a Dance minor to my degree.”

“It’s pretty clear in your programs that you’re a dancer.”  Georgi agreed.

“You do some of your own choreography, don’t you?”  Viktor asked eagerly, having seen choreographer credit listed on his programs both for exhibitions and this years’ program skates.

No one was surprised that Viktor asked or had interest in that topic since he’d been doing all of his own choreography with little tweaks and edits for technical elements from his coach for seven or eight years now.

Yuuri blushed, darting a look up at his idol across the table – Chris having boxed him into the inside seat at the booth with Viktor nearly leaping over Georgi to sit opposite the youngest skater though Yuuri had been too busy having an internal flail over _dinner with Viktor Nikiforov!_ to notice the byplay, though the others certainly had and Viktor would be taking crap for it for quite some time – from under thick, inky lashes that almost looked unreal on a male face.

“I helped do my programs this year with Celestino and Minako-sensei.”  He admitted, chewing lightly on his lower lip.

Chris and Georgi shared an entertained look and then rather overtly looked _anywhere but at Vitya_ when the wide-eyed look their friend had locked on their little cinnamon roll of a skater turned distinctly _thirsty_.

It was official: Vitya was _never_ living this down whether he never met Yuuri again or ended up married to him with a dozen skating-prodigy babies and four poodles.

Yuuri twirled his fork a bit then set it aside as the waitress cleared their empties to make room for their main dishes which for him was a chicken dish with smoked paprika and a small portion of roasted potatoes and vegetables.

“They thought it was a good idea after how popular my exhibition was last year.”  He finally caved and told Viktor what he actually wanted to know.

“You’ve done well with them for the first year doing your own choreo – even with help from others.”  Chris nudged their shoulders together.

“Says the guys I couldn’t beat earlier this season.”  Yuuri chuckled good-naturedly.  “And I probably won’t this week either.”  He wrinkled his nose.  “I really didn’t want to compete internationally until next year in the senior division.”

Though it _had_ been good – so far – for gaining sponsorships or encouraging his current sponsors to renew at least.

Which was good because Yuuri – like many other skaters – actually made most of his living off of sponsorships since prize money wasn’t something most of them could rely on – unless they were Viktor – at every competition and figure skating was an expensive sport that didn’t leave much behind even if they _did_ earn purses at every event once cost of actually, you know, _living_ was factored in.

“ _C’est la vie.”_   Chris gave a gallic shrug at Yuuri’s oft-repeated complaint since he’d taken gold at his nationals.  “That’s what you get for an outstanding senior debut, darling.”

“Why didn’t you want to compete?”  Viktor asked after he’d managed to get his jaw which had dropped at Yuuri’s grumble back under control.  His question was nearly a gasp.  The thought of someone – especially someone as talented as Yuuri – _not_ wanting to compete at the World Championships…it was completely anathema to him.

Add in that otherwise he wouldn’t have been able to compete against – or meet – the other for _months_ if not longer if Yuuri hadn’t been selected for Worlds by the JSF and it was just more than he wanted to even _think_ about.

“Nerves?”  Chris asked softly, remembering more than one competition when they were Juniors where the other skater’s nerves and anxiety made a wreck of him.  Though those had been in short supply since his friend had moved to the States – or so it seemed.

Yuuri rolled his eyes.  “No.”  He deadpanned.  “I just don’t like competing where I know I have no chance at _winning_.”

The others spluttered objections, talking up his spins and step-sequences and performance components while he watched out of darkly amused brown eyes, though only a moment or two in Viktor at least stopped and tilted his head, studying the adorable creature in consideration.

“You’re serious.”  He finally cut off Chris and Georgi.  “You honestly don’t believe you have a chance at winning.”

“Not only that.”  Yuuri arched a knowing brow.  “I don’t think I have a shot at _medaling_ or placing at all barring a miracle or more than one of the high-tier skaters screwing up or hurting themselves.”  He pursed his lips.  “I _did_ do my choreo as we’ve already discussed and even with pumping as much life into them as I can I just don’t have the base scores to do better than maybe tenth comparatively.”  He wrinkled his nose again.  “We didn’t plan for Worlds so the technical elements just aren’t there since this was supposed to be a _slow_ debut season not a no-holds-barred debut.”

“That’s…”  Georgi fought for words but got cut off again by Vitya.

“Accurate, actually.”  Viktor concluded after reviewing what he knew of the top ten skaters that year and their programs.  He pouted.  He’d wanted to skate against a _competitive_ Yuuri, not a here-because-I-have-to-be Yuuri.  “Though I think I could see a few places to…”

“Yeah, that’s a no.”  Yuuri hurried to hush his idol before he made a well-meaning but useless offer to help him or something.  “I’m going to skate my programs to the best of my ability and learn from the mistake I made this year in not leaving myself enough leeway to adjust my programs for next year and the year after and so on.”  He grinned.

“Ooh, better watch out Vitya darling.”  Chris teased, perking up after the dismal pronouncement his friend had given regarding his chances of placing highly at worlds.  Though he had hope to see his friend at least in the top half of competitors of the fifty or so senior men that made it to the championship this year, though only about half were truly competitive or had even half a chance against Viktor.  “Yuuri can be quite _fierce_ when he sets his eyes on something.”

Snorting under his breath at the glances shared between his teammate and the young skater, Georgi muttered: “He’s not the only one.”

Perhaps seeing that Yuuri’s face and neck were growing hot enough to fry an egg, no matter how cute it was, Viktor changed the subject.

“I saw that you’ve made a new friend, Yuuri.”  He noted lightly, arching a brow at the baffled look the Japanese skater shot him.  “The Junior bronze medalist?”

“Ah, Phichit-kun.”  Yuuri nodded, an amused smile twitching at his mouth.  He wasn’t surprised Viktor knew about his dinner with the younger skater given that Phichit was an avowed social media addict and Yuuri had seen for himself all the selfies and tweets and updates about meeting Yuuri and Celestino and moving to Detroit the Thai teen had uploaded since yesterday.  He continued when Georgi and Chris also watched him expectantly.  “He’s going to study under Celestino-sensei next year.”  He sighed softly.  “And be my roommate.”  He shifted a bit uncomfortable still with the sudden show of trust Celestino was putting on his shoulders.  “Celestino-sensei wants me to mentor him through the move, I think.”

The Russians were nodding, expression of “ahhh” on their handsome faces while Chris still looked confused.

Which wasn’t surprising to his friends.

Spoiled creature that he was with his parents’ wealth and fame as Olympian ice dancers, he’d never had to share a coach or deal with the expectations that came with participating in the larger-scale skating clubs like the one in Detroit or one of the biggest on the planet in St. Petersburg – though the one in Beijing was likely larger in sheer numbers if not the talent they’d turned out over the years.

Though at least Chris’s parents hadn’t tried to coach him once he made it to Juniors.

 _That_ wouldn’t have gone well for anyone involved.

“Yakov doesn’t pair us off like that.”  Georgi explained to Christophe after sharing an amused look over his confusion with Vitya and Yuuri.  “But there’s still an expectation that we’ll set an example for the younger skaters and be patient with them if they ask us for help.”

“We also help with Yakov’s summer camps and clinics.”  Viktor added, taking a long sip of his tea – tea which had gotten him an appalled stare, Georgi as well – when the Russians had added jam to the cup from Yuuri.  “Though there’s one novice skater that’ll be eligible for Juniors in a couple years that Yakov might try and give an actual mentor since he’s been struggling with the move from Moscow.”

“Ah, Yuratchka.”  Georgi moaned.  “A tiny ball of pre-teen rage and spite.”

Chris and Yuuri laughed as the dramatic Russians seemed to melt in place at the thought of having to mentor their young rink mate.

“There there.”  Yuuri marshalled his courage and patted Viktor softly on one strong shoulder, not allowing himself – at the moment, he’d drool later – to stop and marvel over the firm muscle under his hand as Chris patted Georgi on the top of his thick mane of dark brown hair.  “It’ll be alright.”

Viktor grumbled, pouting a bit and turning his head to the side on the restaurant table to glare up at Yuuri from one bright blue eye – though that eye was filled with humor – and said in unison with Georgi:

“You don’t know _Yura/Yuratchka_.”

…

Yuuri didn’t think he’d ever get tired of watching Viktor perform live.

Granted, this was the first time he’d been able to do so and only because they were in different groups for their short programs with Yuuri seeded in the first group of the second half of the men’s short programs and Viktor going last as always as both the reigning champion _and_ the top-ranked skater for the season.

Prior to last year Viktor would trade top-ranking with two or three other skaters that were now retired like Stephané Lambiel who held distinction as the most recent skater to take gold over Viktor.

He wasn’t the _only_ skater to ever manage it since Viktor made the jump to the senior division – but he was the most consistent at it, giving the pair a “rivals” brand in the media whether either of them actually felt that way about the other or not.

With Lambiel retired, it was a goal almost on par with winning a skating grand-slam (golds at the Grand Prix Final, a Euro or 4C championship, and the World championship) to be considered Viktor’s new rival for many up-and-coming skaters.

Skaters like Yuuri and Christophe.

Though given the choke-hold Viktor has had on gold medals at competitions he entered since his Worlds title on the heels of his Silver at the Olympics (though he also took home a Gold for the team event) how realistic it was that anyone could rise to the same level of competition with the “Ice Prince of Russia” as Lambiel had given the silver-haired skater remained to be seen and many representatives and sportscasters were constantly eyeing up the younger talent to try and predict who _just might_ manage it.

At least with Viktor being only twenty-three, barring a serious injury, they still had at least several years to find out.

Making it to twenty-five as a professional figure skater in the singles division was something of a feat.

For most, anyway.

Make it beyond that and a skater would acquire near-relic status.

Do it and continue to _win_ and you become a legend.

For his part, Yuuri had completed his Swan Lake routine without breaking the hundred-point goal many skaters strived for with the short program or even equaling his scores from his nationals and NHK Trophy performances but that was okay.  Everyone knew that skaters tended to get inflated scoring at their nationals and that the scoring was never more rigorous than at Worlds – except for the Olympics, naturally.  He was sitting comfortably in eleventh place as he waited for Viktor to finish his program and would drop to twelfth afterwards.

As he watched Viktor skate a poignant – if a bit melancholy – routine to Rota’s _Love Theme_ from Romeo & Juliet, and leap into the air to land a textbook (which given that Viktor was still the only skater that’d managed to land the jump in competition one could argue it was a textbook he’d _written_ ) quad flip, Yuuri clapped and cheered with everyone else, finding himself perfectly content with his placement…even if the burning in his belly to _win_ chafed at him.

Realism and pragmatism aside…watching his idol skate with power and grace, he wanted more than ever to equal the beautiful man with his silver hair and trunkful of golden medals.

And come hell or high water, as Viktor spun to a stop with one hand pressed over his heart and the other reaching for the sky, he swore that one day _he would_ be Viktor’s equal.

Even if he had to defy gravity itself to manage it.

Which, given Viktor’s free skate music, was rather apropos.

…

Viktor sucked in a breath where he was watching Yuuri Katsuki skate his free skate program from rinkside as he worked to stretch out since the younger skater was performing in the middle spot three groups before his own group’s turn to warm up.

 _Infernal Dance_ poured through the speakers of the stadium as Katsuki entered the second half of his program…without having performed a single jump.

“He backloaded the program.”  Viktor murmured more to himself than to the ever-watchful Yakov, who grunted in agreement.  “Not even I do that.”

“Not as risky without quads.”  Yakov allowed, though his scowl never wavered.  If anything it deepened as Katsuki set up a jump combination, perfectly landing a triple-triple-double combination of toe loop-loop-lutz.  “Still stupid for an untried senior.”  He shook his head.  “Cialdini should know better.  The boy can’t have the needed endurance fresh off the Junior division to manage it.”

“I don’t know about that.”  Viktor said, tilting his head with a slight grin as he watched Yuuri _glide_ into a spread-eagle set-up for his triple axel that was +4 GOE or the judges robbed him.  “He doesn’t look tired to me.”

And there was still at least a minute left, plenty of time on the ice to add in another jump or two.

Like the quad toe-loop the younger skater had yet to use in competition.

Yuuri slowed with the music into a lovely Ina Bauer, flowing into one of his complex step sequences, then picked pace back up with the music leading to a set-up any Men’s skater would recognize.

“He’s going for it.”  Viktor leaned forward, eyes rapt, then let loose with a cheer along with the rest of the stadium as Yuuri slammed his toe-pick into the ice and spun into the air: _once, twice, thrice, and there!_   Four rotations, though he wobbled just a bit on his landing.

“Next year,” Yakov said slowly, considering the skater he’d had his eye on as competition for Vitya for all of this season and most of last.  “If he comes back with that jump clean,” he raised his voice a bit to be heard over the cheers of the crowd as Katsuki finished his routine with a Russian split and then spun into center ice, arms flung wide and head down.  “And another quad, he’ll live up to the promise of last year.”

He cast a frustrated glance at his top skater who was still watching the Japanese boy with starry-eyes.

Because _that_ infatuation was going to end well.

Vitya always had been a ridiculous creature.

His most recent crush was only further confirmation that so much time up in the air with his jumps had permanently lodged his brain up in the clouds as far as Yakov was concerned.

“Do you hear me, Vitya?”  He barked, managing – finally – to dislodge his daydreaming champion as the score was announced for Katsuki: almost a dozen points higher than his performance at the NHK Trophy and likely due to backloading his jumps and swapping a triple salchow for a quad toe.  With a total score in the 280’s he wasn’t going to win and likely not even make the top five but for a senior debut year it was damn impressive.

“I hear you, Yakov.”  Viktor rolled his eyes as he turned to go back to the locker and warm-up rooms to wait for his skating group.  He’d catch the rest of the performances on the monitor.  “And like I said last year: I can’t _wait_ for Yuuri to finish getting to my level.”

…

Yuuri could barely believe that he was in the top ten and holding as the second-to-last skater picked up a bouquet of roses from the ice and made for the Kiss-and-Cry.

Though he’d wager his own shock at – he listened to the score and watched the leaderboard change – seventh in the world before Viktor’s free skate was _nothing_ compared to Chris’s at breaking the top five, the Swiss skater currently sitting in shock at Yuuri’s side at holding onto third-place after a simply stunning performance with only Viktor left to go.

Which meant that barring catastrophe Yuuri was going to finish out the season ranked eighth in the world and Chris at fourth – not bad _at all_ for Yuuri’s debut senior season and Chris’s sophomore season.

With the rankings as they stood, an older skater from the States was likely to take silver and one from Germany third behind Viktor’s second championship.

And Yuuri wasn’t just saying that as a fan of Viktor Nikiforov but as a realist.

Viktor’s free skate this year hadn’t yet broken his own record for highest-scoring free skate but it was close, only a handful of points off at the Russian Nationals, and he’d have to flub most of his jumps to screw up first-place on the back of his gorgeous short program that _had_ beaten his own SP world record at the European Championships last month.

Contrasting with his melancholy short program, the orchestral arrangement of the big Broadway hit _Defying Gravity_ was nothing short of hopeful and uplifting, suited for flamboyant jumps, complex step sequences, and fast spins.

If he didn’t know better, Yuuri would say Viktor wasn’t performing so much as simply having _fun_ , which was some of the brilliance of his performance abilities shining through.

He also was clearly capable – as Yuuri had picked up on the last few years as Viktor matured as a skater – of doing scoring calculations on the fly.

Much better at it than Yuuri was if he had to guess as Viktor underrotated a quad loop in a quad-triple combination into a triple-triple combo but then pushed his signature quad flip – the Russian still the only skater to land it in competition – to just after the halfway mark in the performance to make up the point loss.

Somehow it all seemed so flawless through a tv screen.

The magic was still there of watching Viktor perform, don’t get him wrong.

But seeing the _look_ in Viktor’s eyes as he was on the ice and the adjustments he made literally on the fly – which kinda had his coach looking a bit purple in the face, Yuuri hoped Coach Feltsman wasn’t driven to a stroke or heartattack by Viktor – he realized for the first time:

Viktor Nikiforov wasn’t just a champion skater with consistent jumps and an ability to perform.

He was an _intelligent_ skater.

And that?

Yuuri shook his head before jumping up and applauding with ninety percent of the rest of the stadium as Viktor spun to a stop on center ice, arms up-flung and one skate crossed behind the other.

 _That_ was almost frightening to realize about a competitor.

Viktor Nikiforov could – _and did_ – adjust his programs on the fly not _just_ to make up for his own mistakes however minor but _also_ in accordance to the point standings and what he’d need to win.

Now _that_ was something Yuuri definitely needed to learn.

Even if the thought of more math made him want to whimper in defeat.

 


End file.
